Harry Potter & The Philosopher's Stone
by Kelda
Summary: AU Harry Potter & Philosopher's Stone. Was originally going to be pretty much cannon but darker, but seems to be veering into it's own little world with every chapter and I have NO idea where it's going! First fanfic, any reviews gratefully accepted.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

George Weasley pushed his laden trolley through the hidden, muggle-proof entrance to Platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross Station and stopped, taking a deep breath of the steam-laden air as he gazed around the crowded, bustling platform with a wide grin. His identical twin brother Fred appeared next to him a few moments later, looking round with the same wicked smile as his blue eyes took in the clumps of parents and children of assorted ages, most laden with heavy trunks and cages containing a wide range of animals.

"C'mon, Gred, lets go find a good carriage." George said, shoving his trolley into the crowd with Fred close behind him.

"What d'you think Harry Potter'll be like, Forge?" Fred mused, and George shrugged.

"Hopefully smart enough to see through ickle Ronniekins' attempts to smarm up to him." The tall gangly red-head replied to his twin brother. "I swear, that little prat turns more like Percy every day."

"Yeah, I know." Fred said, shaking his head gloomily. "Imagine the shame when everyone realises there's two of the prats in our family." George grinned back over his shoulder as the twins neared the end of the Hogwarts Express.

"Guess we'll just have to make up for it, then." George said, and the twins' faces cracked into identical evil grins.

"Here, this carriage'll do." Fred said, stopping his trolley by an empty carriage. "Let's get our trunks in and go find Lee. He's supposed to be bringing a tarantula with him this year."

"Maybe we can leave it in Ron's bed." George suggested, and Fred laughed.

Ten minutes later the twins hopped down out of their compartment and stood looking around the platform, trying to spot their friend Lee Jordan.

"Hey, Forge, look at that shrimp." Fred nudged his brother in the ribs, and George looked down the platform to their right. A small black-haired kid, obviously a Firstie by his size, was struggling to lift a trunk almost the same size as himself into a compartment two doors away.

"Merlin's pants, are you sure he's 11? He only looks big enough to be about 8. In fact I reckon Ginny's probably taller than he is!" George chuckled. "C'mon, let's give him a hand or he'll never get on the train."

"Yeah, and we'll probably hear the wailing from Hogwarts." Fred sniggered as the twins headed for the boy.

"Hey, kid, need a hand?" George said cheerfully as the twins reached the panting boy. They blinked in surprise as the kid, not having seen them approach as his back was to them, flinched instinctively before turning round cautiously.

"Wow, nice shiner." Fred said sympathetically on seeing the vivid purple-black bruise covering the boy's left eye and half his cheek. The boy shrugged, and let go of his trunk where it was propped precariously on the steps into the compartment to push his round-framed, broken black glasses up his nose.

"Here, shorty, shift out the way and we'll get your trunk in for you." George said, flapping his hand at the boy to back up the steps into the carriage. Black eyebrows arched, but the boy backed up obediently as Fred climbed over the trunk to grab the upper end. The tall red-heads hoisted the trunk with identical grunts of effort and carried it into the carriage, stowing it under the seats before straightening.

"Thanks." Said the boy softly, looking up at the twins towering over him.

"You're welcome, titch." Fred said cheerfully. "Feels like you've got half the kitchen sink in there, though." A smile lit up the boy's bruised face, he shrugged again.

"You're telling me. Thought I'd never get it on the train."

"Well, someone would have helped eventually. Or at least, anyone that wasn't in Slytherin would." George said cheerfully.

"Yeah," added Fred "We just – "

"Clocked you first." George finished. "We're only two compartments up." He gestured down the train as the boy looked from him to Fred curiously.

"You two do that a lot?" he asked.

"What?" Fred asked.

"Finish each other's sentences?"

"Oh yeah, all – "

"The time." The twins said, grinning.

"Mostly to – "

"Piss people off."

"Especially Snape." Fred added.

"And Mum." George said, and flinched as there was a shrill yell from the platform.

"Speaking of Mum," Fred said,

"Time to go." Completed George.

"Nice meeting you, shorty." Fred nodded at the boy, who sighed.

"My name isn't shorty. It's Harry." The twins looked down at him, their red eyebrows shooting up.

"Harry? As in Harry Potter?" George queried, and the boy shrugged.

"Afraid so."

"Oh, wow, do we bow or grovel?" Fred said teasingly, and Harry flushed.

"Neither, preferably. I didn't even know I was famous until last week."

"Eh? However not?"

"Raised by muggles. Nasty muggles, at that. My uncle's the one who gave me this shiner yesterday." Harry gestured at his eye, and shrugged at the twin's frowns.

"Go see Madam Pomfrey in the Infirmary after the Sorting Feast. She's got this stuff that's brilliant for bruises." George said as Fred descended back to the platform. "Anyway, we gotta go else Mum'll have our guts for garters. See you in school, shorty." The twins gifted Harry with identical mischevious grins and disappeared into the smoke towards the sound of their mother's voice, and Harry lifted Hedwig's cage onto one of the seats before collapsing next to it with a sigh.

"Well, those two were nice enough. Better than that blond prat in Madame Malkin's last week." He said to his beautiful snowy owl, poking his finger through the bars of her cage to rub her chest feathers gently. Hedwig hooted softly and bent her head to nibble his finger affectionately.

"If he ends up in Slytherin I don't want to go into that house." Harry said thoughtfully, staring out of the window as the train started to quiver, preparatory to moving off. "Hope I don't get sorted into Slytherin. If I do I reckon I'll run away. I'm not going in that house if that kid's anything like the rest of 'em, not to mention what Hagrid said." Hedwig hooted again and flipped her wings, and Harry looked down at her with a smile.

"Yeah, worry about it when it happens. I know. I worry too much." He said affectionately, and put the matter out of his mind with a shake of his head. Just then the door of his compartment onto the corridor opened, and he looked round to see three fellow first-years standing there.

"Can we sit here? Everywhere else is full." Said the one in front, a tall skinny lad with red hair who looked startling similar to the two twins who had helped Harry earlier. Behind him was a shorter boy, although he was still taller than Harry, with a round freckled face and a girl with bushy brown hair. All three of them were pulling trunks behind them.

"Yeah, sure." Harry said. He pulled his feet up onto the seat out of the way as the three trunks were disposed of under the seats, and the three strangers flopped onto seats with sighs of relief and complaints about the weight of their trunks.

"How did you get yours in?" the girl asked, seeing Harry's trunk under his seat. "I didn't see you going down the corridor.

"No, two red head twins helped me lift it in through the outside door." Harry answer, and the red headed boy rolled his eyes.

"And you survived an encounter with Fred and George none the worse for wear?" he said in surprise. "Blimey, you're lucky."

"Know them, then?" Harry said.

"I should say so. They're my brothers, Fred & George Weasley. I'm Ron. You gotta watch them two, they're terrible practical jokers." He warned solemnly, and Harry shrugged.

"They seemed all right. Apart from calling me shorty all the time." He shrugged again with a lopsided smile. "And most people do that. Not like I'm a giant or anything, is it?" The girl and the other boy laughed as Ron shrugged.

"I'm Neville Longbottom." The freckled boy said shyly, waving at Harry from across the compartment.

"Hermione Granger." The girl said. "You really ought to fix your glasses."

"Don't know how." Harry said with a shrug.

"Oh, did you not read your books?" Hermione said in surprise, plowing on without waiting for an answer. "I know a spell to fix them, its in Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 near the end." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Harry's face as he went cross-eyed trying to look at it, eliciting snorts of laughter from Ron and Neville. Hermione ignored them and jabbed her wand at Harry's glasses with a pronunciation of "Reparo!", and Harry blinked as the tape spun off the suddenly mended arm and bridge of his glasses and the crack across the bottom of the left lens vanished.

"Hey, cool." He said, pulling them off to blink at them in amazement before sliding them back on, careful of his shiner, and looking up at Hermione. "Can you do anything about this?" he asked, touching the edge of his bruised eye gently and wincing. Hermione shook her head.

"No, I haven't learnt any medical spells yet. I think we need to be a bit older before we can learn them, if I tried I'd probably make it worse."

"Damn. Well, thanks for fixing my specs, anyway."

"You're welcome." Hermione sat down opposite Harry, next to the window.

"I'm Harry Potter, by the way." He said, realising he hadn't told them his name, and rolled his eyes at the stunned expressions. "Look, I'm just Harry, OK? Not important, don't want to be famous, just Harry." Neville and Hermione shrugged at his vehemence and nodded agreement, Ron following suit a few moments later.

"What happened to your eye, anyway?" Ron asked curiously half an hour later, giving in to the temptation that had been obviously eating at him since meeting Harry. The black-haired boy shrugged.

"Uncle Vernon." He said dully, staring out the window at the countryside rushing past.

"WHAT?!?" Hermione squeaked, looking up from one of her books. "Your UNCLE did that to you?" Harry's green eyes met hers as he shrugged.

"My relatives aren't nice, Hermione. In fact they're awful and they hate me." He shrugged again. "I didn't even know my parents' names until last week, let alone that they were magical." He turned to look out the window again.

"So why did he hit you, then?" Neville asked timidly, and Harry's thin shoulder's moved in another shrug.

"God knows. Anything's set him off this last week, since Hagrid took me back after getting my school stuff. Anything and everything." He managed a wry smile for the other three. "Hey, at least I'm out of there for a whole 9 months, aren't I? Not like I'll be going home for Christmas or anything. They don't want me back til summer, and that's only 'cause Hagrid gave them a letter from Dumbledore. They weren't going to have me back at all before then."

"It's meant to be cool at Hogwarts over the Christmas break." Neville said wistfully. "Maybe I can talk Gran into letting me stay too. I'll write her after term starts, so I can tell her what House I'm in, and ask her then."

"Blimey, Neville, Christmas isn't for four months yet!" Ron exclaimed, and Neville smiled.

"I know, but if she says no it gives me four months to talk her round! Especially if I get good marks in some of my classes."

"Reckon you will?" Ron asked curiously. Neville shrugged.

"I hope I will." Hermione piped up brightly. "I've read all my books all the way through so I hope I do okay, although of course we aren't allowed to actually practise anything until we get to school but I know all the theory, I think." She looked at Harry, who was still staring vaguely out of the window. "How about you, Harry? Have you read any of your books?"

"A bit. Couldn't get hold of most of them as Uncle Vernon had locked my trunk, but I managed to sneak my Potions and my Charms books out before he locked it. Didn't have much time around my chores, but I've got about halfway through both, I think. Everything else I'll just have to study at school."

"Well, I haven't even looked at mine." Ron said with a certain amount of pride. "I'm from a wizarding family, so I know a fair bit of it already, especially with five brothers having gone through Hogwarts already ahead of me."

"Five brothers?" Harry said in surprise and a certain amount of envy, "Blimey."

"There's seven of us, all told. I've a younger sister, Ginny, who'll be starting Hogwarts next year. Bill and Charlie have already left, Percy's made Prefect this year and you're already met the bane of Mum's existence, Fred and George."

"Oi, did we hear" came a voice from the corridor

"Our names taken in vain, ickle Ronniekins?" Completed another voice, and the four firsties looked around to see Fred and George looking in at them with identical evil grins. Ron scowled at them and pulled a face as Harry waved a faint hello from his window seat, and Hermione and Neville gaped at them warily.

"I was just telling them how many of us there are and how you two are the bane of Mum's life." Ron defended himself as the twins ambled into the carriage and claimed the two empty seats on either side of the corridor doorway. Their long gangly legs stretched across the compartment, effectively blocking it, as they smirked at the four first years.

"We aren't just the bane of Mum's existence, Ronniekins." George said gleefully.

"We like to think we are the bane of Filch the Caretaker's too." Fred said. "And if you don't behave we'll be the bane of yours as well."

"So don't push your luck." George completed.

"I wasn't!" Ron protested, and the twins grinned at him.

"All right there, Harry?" George (or possibly Fred) asked the black haired boy. Harry shrugged and nodded.

"Just a bit nervous about the Sorting, is all." He said faintly, and the twins grinned.

"Ah, don't worry about it. It's not **too** painful." Fred said cheerfully, and the first years gulped.

"Nah, seriously, you'll all be fine. So long as none of you end up in Slytherin, that is. If that happens we might just have to prank you to oblivion."

"Won't matter." Neville said gloomily. "Gran'll've killed me first, so you'd have to dig me up."

"We can do that." George said cheerfully, and Ron sighed.

"Yeah, Mum'll do the same thing to me." He shuddered. "Can you imagine the reaction if I ended up in Slytherin? Assuming I didn't off myself first, she'd slaughter me."

"Yeah, well, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor is what you'll get Ronniekins. You aren't bright enough to be Ravenclaw, although your little lady friend might be if the speed she's reading that book is anything to go by." Fred announced, nodding at Hermione who was still reading her book. "And I don't think you're evil or twisted enough, yet, to end up in Slytherin. So you should be safe from Mum's wrath, so long as you don't do anything **too** stupid through the year."

"Well, you never know with Ron." George chipped in, chuckling, and Ron scowled at him.

"What House do you think you'll be in, Harry?" Neville asked him, and Harry shrugged.

"I dunno."

"Well both your parents were in Gryffindor," Hermione said absently from behind her book. "So maybe you will be as well." Harry blinked at her.

"How do you know they were in Gryffindor?"

"It's in one of my light reading books. History of the War. You and your parents are mentioned in it."

"Heh, welcome to fame, Mister Potter." One of the twins sniggered as Harry gaped at the bushy haired girl sitting opposite, stunned.

"What about you, Neville?" Harry asked, shutting his mouth and looking at the freckled boy. Neville shrugged.

"Dad was in Gryffindor, Mum was in Hufflepuff, so I could go in either. I'm not smart enough for Ravenclaw by a long shot. I'll probably be in Hufflepuff."

"Well, we're in Gryffindor and all our brothers have been in Gryffindor, so if you end up anywhere else Ron you can start a new Weasley tradition."

"Gotta be a black sheep in every family, I guess." Fred sniggered. Ron snorted.

"Yeah, I thought that was you two." He retorted with a grin, and George fell back into his seat with a hand clapped over his heart.

"Oooh he's got us there Gred!" he exclaimed, and Fred nodded gloomily as the four first years chuckled at George's exaggerated death throes.

"Cut to the quick, Ronniekins, cut to the quick." Fred said in mock hurt as George got up.

"Guess there's hope for you yet, Ronniekins." George said from the doorway as Fred rose.

"Yeah, maybe you won't turn into Perfect Percy the Prat just yet." Fred completed, then the twins disappeared back down the corridor.

"Percy?" Neville queried as Ron scowled after his older brothers. The red head shrugged.

"My next oldest brother after the twins. He's in his sixth year of Hogwarts and is a Prefect. And more than a bit of a prat, to be quite honest." He glowered down the corridor in the direction the twins had departed. "I can't believe they think I'm turning into Percy!" he grumbled. "What a nightmare that'd be." Harry grinned.

"Could be worse, you could be turning into my cousin Dudley. Only you'd have to go blonde and become the size of a small whale, first." Ron and Neville sniggered at the image that called up, and Hermione rolled her eyes behind her book.

"Fat, is he, your cousin?" Neville asked, and Harry snorted.

"He looks like a pig in a blond wig." He retorted, and the other three all laughed at that wonderful mental image. Harry grinned reluctantly. "Built like a brick wall, but at least he's slow enough on his feet to outrun fairly easily. I'm fast on my feet when I have to be." He shrugged modestly, and the conversation turned to other things as the train rattled on across the countryside.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:** I forgot this last chapter, so I've put it in now. I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it – I wish I did!_

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"You lot better get ready." Fred said, poking his head in the door of the carriage on his way back from the engine room. "We'll be there in about 15 minutes." He ambled off down the corridor as the four first years started scrambling for their school robes.

"And don't worry about the sorting, you'll all be fine." Floated back down the corridor as Fred disappeared, and Harry gulped. Butterflies were starting to hatch in his stomach as he pulled his school robes over his head and flopped back onto the seat next to Hedwig's cage, chewing his bottom lip nervously. Ron sat down opposite him, looking like he'd swallowed Neville's toad, Trevor, and Neville didn't look much happier. The only one who didn't seem nervous was Hermione, who'd been in her school robes practically the whole train journey and was still curled up with her nose buried in a book, this time the Transfiguration school book.

"Why aren't you as nervous as the rest of us?" Ron demanded grumpily of her as the train started to slow down and she finally closed her book to put it away. She shrugged.

"I am a bit. I'm muggleborn though, which helps because I've no family pressure like you three have. My parents are just so chuffed that they've got a witch in the family they don't mind which House I end up in." Hermione smiled fondly. "Once they got over the stunned phase they were very happy."

"Bet it's nice to have all the weird happenings explained, isn't it?" Neville said thoughtfully. Hermione nodded as Harry shrugged.

"Depends on your relatives, I s'pose." He said. "Glad yours took it the right way, Hermione." He scrambled to his feet as the train slowed to a stop, and the four first years looked at each other nervously.

"Leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to your dormitories once you are sorted." Boomed a loud voice down the train suddenly, making them all jump. Harry bent down to give Hedwig one last stroke through the bars of her cage in farewell.

"See you later, girl." He said softly as she nibbled his finger and hooted affectionately at him, then he ran after Ron, Neville and Hermione as they filed into the corridor after everyone else.

"Firs' years!" Bellowed Hagrid as the foursome emerged onto the isolated platform. "Firs' years this way!" He grinned down at Harry through the sea of small children surging towards him.

"All righ', 'Arry?" Harry smiled up at him as he got close, and Hagrid's small black eyes widened at the sight of Harry's shiner. "Wha' 'appened t' yeh eye?"

"Nothing important Hagrid." Harry waved it off, ignoring the looks of surprise from Hermione, Neville and Ron, and Hagrid shrugged.

"Righ', ev'rybody 'ere? This way, then." He led the way down a steep path towards the lake ahead, his swinging lantern lighting the path just enough for them to be able to keep their feet and see where they were going.

"Four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted at the foot of the path, and Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville all scrambled into the same boat hastily. They hung onto the sides as the boats, once they were all filled, set off across the lake towards the towering castle on the other side.

"Watch your heads!" Hagrid called from his own boat where it was in the lead, ducking under the curtain of ivy that half-concealed the hidden entrance into the crag that Hogwarts stood upon.

"Righ', ev'ryone out and follow me." Hagrid instructed on the boats reaching the mooring inside the cave. He stepped easily out of his own boat, and stood towering on the stone mooring while the first years scrambled out of their boats. Neville made a grab for Trevor as the toad tried to escape, and stuffed him back into his pocket before clapping his hand over the same pocket to prevent a further escape attempt.

Harry and his new friends trotted after Hagrid with all the other first years as the huge man led the way up the wide stairwell into the Entrance Lobby of the castle, where they found a tall, stern looking witch waiting for them with a large roll of parchment in her hands.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid announced, halting in front of the witch and the first years bunching up behind him nervously.

"Thank you Hagrid." The huge man nodded and turned away, lumbering through the doors into the Great Hall as the first years all huddled together for moral support, eyeing Professor McGonagall nervously. The tall witch surveyed the crowd of 11 year olds watching her nervously, and Harry could have sworn he saw her lips twitch slightly before she cleared her throat and everyone fell silent.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." She said in a soft Scottish accent. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." She looked around at the large wooden doors behind her as there was a soft chime, and nodded at something none of the first years could see.

"Right, it is time for the sorting. Please form an orderly line and follow me." She turned on her heel in a swirl of tartan-embroidered robes and strode towards the huge wooden doors, which swung open with protesting creaks as she neared them. The first years sorted themselves hurriedly into a line two people wide and hurried after her, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville in roughly the middle of the line.

Professor McGonagall led the way up the middle of the Great Hall, between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, towards the Head Table that sat across the width of the Hall at the top end. Placed on a high three legged stool before the Head Table was a tatty, frayed hat, which the first years all stared at in mixtures of wonder and disbelief as they were gestured to a halt by Professor McGonagall before the stool. They were all startled when the hat burst into song, a rip near the peak moving like a mouth.

After the Sorting Hat had finished its song, Professor McGonagall looked at the stunned first years sternly.

"When I call out your name, you will sit on the stool and place the Sorting Hat on your head, where it will sort you into your house." She flicked her wrist and the scroll in her right hand unfurled.

"Abbott, Hannah" The girl with blonde pigtails who put the hat on first looked absolutely terrified as she sat on the stool, the Sorting Hat on her head.

"Hufflepuff!" shouted the hat, and Hannah scurried to the table on the right as it cheered.

"Bones, Susan."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Boot, Terry."

"Ravenclaw!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy."

"Ravenclaw!" More cheers from the table to the left of the nervous first years as Mandy Brocklehurst joined them.

"Brown, Lavender."

"Gryffindor!" shouted the hat, and the table on the far right erupted into cheering. Harry could see the twins banging their goblets on the table with wide smiles

"Bulstrode, Millicent." Became the first Slytherin, causing the table on the far left to erupt into noise.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Finnigan, Seamus." That one took a while, the Hat deliberating for almost a minute before shouting "Gryffindor!"

"Granger, Hermione."

"Gryffindor!" yelled the Hat, and Hermione ran off to the Gryffindor table with a wide smile at Harry, Ron and Neville, who all managed rather weak, sickly smiles back.

"I'm gonna throw up." Ron muttered to Harry, who nodded queasily as

"Longbottom, Neville" was called. Harry patted Neville on the back reassuringly as the round-faced lad stumbled up to the stool, white faced with fright.

"Gryffindor!" shouted the Hat after quite a wait, and Neville took it off with a sigh of relief before stumbling off to the Gryffindor table.

"MacDougal, Morag."

"Ravenclaw!"

"Malfoy, Draco." Harry recognised the blond lad from Madame Malkins, and wasn't at all surprised when the Hat shouted "Slytherin!" within seconds of touching his head. Ron scowled after him malevolently.

"Git." He muttered, distracted from his nerves briefly. Harry couldn't answer, his stomach felt like there were live snakes squirming around in it as "Moon, Anna" was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Nott, Theodore."

"Slytherin!"

"Parkinson, Pansy."

"Slytherin!"

"Patil, Padma." Became a Ravenclaw, with her twin sister Parvati being sorted into Gryffindor."

"Oh God." Said Harry hollowly as "Perks, Sally-Anne" was sorted into Hufflepuff. "I'm gonna die." He moaned as "Potter, Harry" was called out by Professor McGonagall.

"Good luck." Ron muttered as Harry stumbled forwards, hearing the whispers breaking out all over the Hall as everyone heard his name. He struggled up onto the high stool and McGonagall dropped the hat onto his head, cutting off the sight of the hall as it fell down to his nose.

"Hmm, where to put you, Mr Potter?" said a small clothy voice in his ear as Harry's hands clenched on the edge of the stool.

"Not Slytherin, please!" he thought desperately.

"Are you sure? They could make you great, you know. You'd fit in well there."

"If you put me in Slytherin I'll leave!" Harry thought desperately. "I'd rather live on the streets or back with the bloody Dursleys than go into Slytherin!"

"Oooh, a bit of vehemence there isn't there?" the Hat said in surprise, and Harry scowled into the blackness.

"I mean it! I will, I'll run away!" he thought hotly, ideas of living at the Leaky Cauldron until he found another school or somewhere else to live whirling through his brain.

"Well, I can see I can't convince you so it'd better be – GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted the last word to the Great Hall, and Harry sagged in relief as he took it off and slid off the stool, staggering as he landed on weak kneed legs as the whole Gryffindor table exploded into noise. He managed a relieved smile at Ron, who was by now an odd shade of pale green, before stumbling off to collapse on the nearest Gryffindor bench next to either Fred or George. Hermione was sitting opposite him, next to another Weasley whom Harry assumed was Percy, and she smiled at him as one of the Weasley twins did a war dance on the table, yelling "We got Potter! We got Potter!" at the top of his lungs.

"Oh, sit down." Moaned Harry, burying his head in his hands in embarrassment. George (or possibly Fred) jumped off the table and sat on his other side as his twin patted Harry's back comfortingly.

"Gryffindor!" shouted the Hat behind Harry, and Percy heaved a sigh of relief. Ron collapsed onto the bench next to Hermione with a relieved smile for his brothers, and the twins smirked at him.

"Guess we won't –"

"Have to disown you yet, Ronniekins." The pair said as Harry straightened up and the Hat shouted "Slytherin!"

"Is that the sorting done?" Ron asked, ignoring Fred and George and rubbing his stomach. "I'm **starving**."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "You looked positively green a few moments ago." Percy snorted.

"**Nothing** puts Ron off his food, Hermione. Absolutely nothing." Ron scowled past Hermione at his older brother, who ignored him as the elderly wizard with the long white beard and half-moon glasses seated in the centre of the Head Table rose to his feet.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts." Said the old wizard, whom Harry assumed was the Headmaster Professor Dumbledore. "Before the start-of-term feast, I would just like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" He smiled benevolently at the students, blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses, and sat down again. Harry blinked, seeing the bemused look on Hermione's face where she sat opposite him.

"Is he insane?" Harry asked generally, and Fred sniggered.

"Oh yeah, completely. He's a good Headmaster, though. And a very powerful wizard, apparently." Fred looked down as the plates on the table suddenly filled with every type of food imaginable. "Aah, grubs up."

"About time." Moaned Ron, loading his plate eagerly as everyone else grabbed for the food. Harry stared at the plates piled high with more food than he had ever seen before in his life, then he reached hesitantly for a pitcher of some sort of strange orangey juice and poured himself a goblet-full.

"Come on, Harry, tuck in!" George commanded from Harry's left, before stuffing a pile of mashed potato into his mouth. Harry looked around cautiously, still not entirely sure he was allowed to eat any of the lovely, appetizing food on display, and timidly helped himself to a piece of turkey and a couple of scoops of mash, followed by a spoonful of carrots and a spoonful of peas, before starting to eat.

On the Head Table, Severus Snape looked up from his plate as Minerva McGonagall walked behind him to her chair, having returned the Sorting Hat to Dumbledore's office. She sat down in her chair next to Snape, and reached out to fill her plate and goblet before turning to the hook-nosed Potions professor.

"So, Severus, what do you think of this year's crop so far?" she asked teasingly, and the Head of Slytherin House shrugged with a half-hearted scowl. He quite liked the Head of Gryffindor, and unbeknownst to the students the pair were actually quite good friends.

"Seems about normal, Minerva." He said mildly, before scowling over at the Gryffindor table. "Although I see bloody James Potter's brat has ended up in his father's house. No surprise there." Minerva snorted, and leant towards him to avoid other teachers hearing.

"Actually, the Hat told me it wanted to put him in Slytherin. Only he threatened to run away and live on the streets, or as the Hat quoted "back with the bloody Dursleys" if it put him in Slytherin so Gryffindor was the next best choice. The Hat said it was a 50/50 chance anyway, but something about his buried memories made it think he'd do well in Slytherin as well as Gryffindor." She shrugged as Snape's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and sat up straight in her chair again as Severus once again peered towards the Gryffindor table. His sharp black eyes scanned the table until they found Harry's untidy mop of black hair, exactly the same as his father's, and he studied the boy's thin back curiously as he ate.

"He's awful small for his age, isn't he." Flitwick squeaked from Snape's other side, following the Potions master's gaze. Snape 'hmmm'd in response, a nasty suspicion starting to stir in the back of his mind as he saw the way Harry hunched protectively over his plate and the boy's small, thin size.

"Odd, when you think neither of his parents were particularly short." Flitwick continued. "In fact James was quite tall, and Lily was an average height." Snape arched an eyebrow at the tiny Charms professor.

"Filius, everyone is tall compared to you." He said teasingly, and Flitwick laughed before turning the subject to other matters.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:** As usual, I don't own HP or anything to do with it – I'm just playing with the characters!_

**And thank you to everyone who has reviewed my little story so far – all reviews much appreciated! I have no idea where this story is going, however, but as soon as I figure it out I'll let you know! It's my Nanowrimo story for this year so it's kind of just type and see what happens :)**

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The following morning Harry was woken from a deep sleep by Neville shaking his shoulder insistently.

"Wstfgl." Harry mumbled into his pillow, and Neville sniggered.

"Yeah, whatever, Harry, but if you don't get up soon you won't get breakfast. Even Ron's up!" Harry groaned and rolled over, struggling to a sitting position in the soft mattress of the four poster before fishing his glasses off his bedside table and sliding them onto his nose, careful of his bruised eye.

"Maybe Madam Pomfrey can do something about your eye." Neville said, stepping back to let Harry slide out of bed and reach for his uniform. "We should go after breakfast, before classes start."

"Ugg." Harry grunted, yawning as he scrambled his clothes together and headed for the showers. Neville followed and started towards the stairs down, yelling over his shoulder,

"I'll wait for you in the common room."

"Ummff." Harry responded before heading for a quick shower.

"Not a morning person, are you?" Neville said cheerfully as Harry appeared in the common room 15 minutes later, his hair combed neatly as it was still wet. Harry smiled sheepishly and shook his head, tufts of his hair already starting to poke up as it dried.

"God, no. I only got up at home because Dudley made more noise than a herd of elephants coming down the stairs." He trotted beside Neville as the longer-legged boy headed out of the portrait hole and down the corridors towards the Great Hall. "Are we going the right way?" Neville shrugged.

"I'm following them." He said softly, waving at a pair of older Gryffindors further down the corridor. "Why should the noise your cousin makes on the stairs wake you up?" he asked curiously. Harry blinked at him.

"I sleep in the cupboard under the stairs." He said, as if it was obvious, and Neville gaped at him.

"You what? A cupboard? Why?"

"I don't know why. I always have. And Dumbledore must know, because my letters were addressed to Mr H Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs. I told you on the train, my aunt and uncle aren't nice people."

"Why didn't you tell Hagrid who gave you your black eye?" Neville asked. Harry shrugged.

"What'd be the point? I've told adults about what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia do before, and just got in trouble for it. Adults don't care, Neville. Fact of life, mate."

"My gran cares. She'd skin them alive if she knew."

"For you, maybe. You're her grandson, she loves you. Nobody cares about me, I'm just an orphan aren't I?" Harry shrugged again and fell silent as the pair reached the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table, and Neville left it with a disbelieving frown in his direction.

Severus Snape watched the two young Gryffindors enter the Hall, Potter trailing a few steps behind Longbottom due to his shorter legs. His black brows creased as he suddenly saw the boy's face and noticed the massive bruise covering his left eye and cheek, and he watched the boy sit down next to the young Weasley as Longbottom sat down next to the bushy haired muggleborn girl. This time Potter had sat on the side of the table where Snape could see his face rather than the back of his messy head, and he watched surreptitiously as the boy glanced around cautiously before taking two slices of toast and heaping them with marmalade. The Weasley boy laughed and said something about the amount of marmalade, and Potter shrugged with a wry smile.

"Blimey, Harry, got enough toast with your marmalade there?" Ron teased, seeing Harry heaping marmalade on top of his toast. Harry shrugged.

"I like marmalade, and I don't get it much at home." He said with a crooked smile. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Doesn't your aunt buy it?"

"Well, yeah, but Dudley likes it too so I only get it after he's finished. And he's so greedy he don't leave much." He shrugged. "Assuming I'm allowed breakfast in the first place, that is. Sometimes I get toast but no marmalade, sometimes I'm allowed marmalade."

"Doesn't your aunt make Dudley share?" Neville asked. Harry snorted, swallowing his huge bite of toast and marmalade.

"Nope. I have to share with him, but he don't have to share with me, if you see what I mean. How do you think he got the size of a small whale?" The other three chuckled, although Hermione and Neville looked a bit disturbed at the hints of Harry's home life, then Hermione handed Harry's timetable across the table.

"Professor McGonagall left these before you two came down for breakfast." She said, passing Neville his. "It's Transfiguration first period, which should be interesting."

"Hermione, you think everything is interesting." Ron sighed long-sufferingly. "You're reading a **schoolbook** at breakfast, for Heaven's sake!" Hermione scowled at him.

"Look, Ronald, just because you have the attention span of a gnat doesn't mean I cannot read at breakfast if I want!"

"It's not his attention span, 'Mione," Harry said, swallowing his last piece of toast. "It's the fact his brain's not big enough for him to be able to do two things at once." He ducked Ron's swipe at his head as Hermione and Neville laughed, then a deep silky voice said from behind Neville,

"That does not bode well for Mr Weasley's academic career, Mr Potter." Harry and Ron looked up with wide eyes to see Professor Snape looming behind their friends, who twisted around in alarm. Ron's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, and Snape arched an eyebrow at him.

"Nor does his truly excellent impression of a goldfish." He said, and Harry, Hermione and Neville giggled before they could help themselves.

"The Hospital Wing is one floor up from your Transfiguration classroom and directly above it, Mr Potter. I suggest you get Madam Pomfrey to treat that black eye before classes start." He swept away then, his black cloak billowing around him like an overgrown bat, and the four first years stared after him.

"Was that Snape being **nice** to you, Harry my lad?" George dropped onto the bench next to Harry out of nowhere, making the four firsties jump in surprise, and Fred landed next to Neville opposite his twin. Harry nodded, speechless, and the twins stared after Snape's disappearing figure suspiciously.

"Wonder what he's up to, then." Fred mused aloud, and George shrugged.

"Snape's **never** nice to anyone, especially not little firsties." He eyed Harry sideways as the small boy took another piece of toast hesitantly, and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. The black-haired boy squeaked and dropped the toast instantly, flinching away instinctively as if expecting to be hit, and the other five stared at him as George snatched his hand away.

"It's OK, Harry, you can have the toast." Fred said hastily as wide green eyes stared at him and George warily. Harry flushed a bright painful red and reached out for the slice of toast with a shaking hand, looking down at his plate as he began slathering the toast with marmalade.

"Sorry, Harry." George said with a smile. "Didn't mean to startle you." Harry shrugged, still looking at his plate and not daring to meet anyone's eyes.

"S'OK. 'M too jumpy for m' own good." He mumbled.

"Humph." Hermione snorted, and George frowned at her quellingly.

"No probs mate. Snapey was right about the location of the Hospital Wing and getting that bruise seen to, though. You should go after that piece of toast – you'll just have time before class if you don't get lost. If one of these three tells McGonagall where you've gone, she won't mind. She'll have seen your shiner by now anyway, Snape probably just beat her to it." Harry nodded obediently, his eyes still fixed on the table as his blush faded slowly from his pale skin, and the twins rose from the table in perfect synchronisation.

"Well, we're off." Fred said.

"Potions first thing for us with the evil git." George continued, and evil smiles crossed the twins' faces.

"Should we blow something up for a first day of school present for Professor Snape, Gred?"

"I think we may well have to, Forge." The pair slouched away, plotting in low voices, and Ron heaved a sigh.

"See what I have to put up with?" he asked the air long-sufferingly, and Harry snorted.

"They seem alright to me." He said, swallowing the last of his toast. "I'm off the Hospital Wing, anyway. If I can find it, that is."

"Well if you come with us to Transfiguration you'll be able to find it from there, won't you?" Hermione said logically, closing her book and stuffing it back in her bag as Neville scrambled to his feet also. Ron trailed after the other three with a last wistful look back at the still-laden table, and Harry rolled his eyes on seeing that.

"Don't you ever stop thinking about food?" he teased the tall gangly red-head, and Ron snorted.

"Nope. That's what you get for growing up with my Mum – her cure for every woe is to feed you. And damn can she cook…." He stared into space briefly with a fond smile, then shook himself and blinked down at the smaller black-haired boy. "What's with you, anyway? All you had for breakfast was three slices of toast and half a jar of marmalade, and you hardly ate anything last night either!"

"Smaller stomach, isn't it." Harry shrugged, not wanting to admit that he wasn't used to eating more than once a day at home, if he was lucky, and broke into a trot to catch up with Hermione and Neville.

He parted from the other three outside the door of the currently empty Transfigurations classroom, and headed down the corridor towards a distant staircase as Hermione Neville and Ron slipped into the classroom to get good seats. Harry smiled as he heard Ron and Hermione start bickering over where to sit. He guessed Ron would want to lurk at the back of the classroom, as far away from the Teacher as possible, where Hermione would no doubt want to be right in the front row for maximum absorption of knowledge!

Harry trotted up the stairwell half-hidden behind a moving tapestry, which almost tempted him to stop and stare at it for several minutes. His feet dragged the nearer he got to the Hospital Wing, dreading the questions that were bound to be asked by the School Nurse if his old primary school was anything to go by. The few times he had been sent to the Nurse at his old school she had been full of questions about his injuries or bruises, and that had usually meant trouble when he got home from his Uncle for telling tales. Or as Vernon called them, lies.

He found the Infirmary without much trouble, much to his disappointment, and cautiously pushed the heavy wooden door open. He winced as it creaked loudly in protest at the slow movement, and shoved it open just enough to slide through the gap, where he stopped and rubbed his left shoe on the back of his right leg nervously as he looked around.

The Infirmary was a long stone room lit with large arched windows that looked out over the grounds of the castle towards a strange stadium in the distance that seemed to have giant hoops on poles at either end. A row of beds ran down each side of the Infirmary, and a section of the end to Harry's right was walled off into an office space. As Harry fidgeted in the doorway a motherly plump witch popped out of the door of the office, alerted by the creak of the door, and bore down on him with a comforting smile.

"A bruise paste for that shiner, is it?" she asked amiably as Harry dithered over whether to stay or run for it. He sighed and sagged, realising there was no escape, as the witch, whom he assumed was Madam Pomfrey, reached him in a swirl of full skirts and spotless white apron.

Poppy looked down at the tiny little first year fidgeting nervously in the doorway with a reassuring smile, as his little voice said "Yes'm" in response to her question.

"Come this way and hop up onto this bed then, while I go get it." She swirled back into her office to the medicine cabinet, and returned to find the small bespectacled boy perched warily on the edge of the bed she had pointed him at.

"You need to take your glasses off, lad." She said, seeing something familiar about his face but unable to put her finger on it at the moment. He obediently slid his glasses off and folded them, clutching them tightly in his left hand like a security blanket as she stood in front of him and unscrewed the lid from the jar in her left hand. "Right. This may hurt at first, as I start to rub it in, but the pain will stop quite soon so you just need to be brave." She said soothingly, scooping out a dollop of the creamy, pine-scented paste, and she heard a faint snort as the boy's vivid green eyes closed. He stiffened slightly as she touched the edge of his lovely big shiner, but other than that sat perfectly still under her hand.

"So who told you to come here, lad?" she asked as she smoothed the cream onto his bruise, talking to take his mind off it.

"Fred 'n' George Weasley on the train yesterday, then Professor Snape told me where to find the Infirmary this mornin' at breakfast." Said the boy's small voice, and she blinked at his closed eyes in surprise.

"Professor Snape?" she said in surprise, her fingers stilled in the jar for more paste, and the boy's head dipped in a nod.

"Yes'm." he opened his right eye a crack. "Are we done? Only I've got Transfiguration to go to."

"No, not yet. Nearly." Poppy continued applying the cream to the boy's black eye, then a footstep from the doorway caused her to look around and she blinked in surprise to see Severus Snape standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. He arched his black eyebrows at her and nodded his head at the frozen boy on the bed before her, and she nodded as she understood he had come to check that the lad had reached the Infirmary.

"There you go, son. All done." She stepped back and put the lid back on the jar as the boy sighed and relaxed stiff muscles, unfolding his glasses and sliding them back on before sliding off the bed to land before her. Poppy handed him the jar of bruise cream, and he blinked at her in surprise.

"Put that on every night and morning until the bruise is gone. If you need any more, you know where I am." The little black-haired lad nodded and turned to leave for class, then spotted Snape leaning on the wall by the door and jumped.

"Thanks, ma'am." He said to Poppy, and scuttled past Snape with a nod as the Professor arched an eyebrow at him.

"I came, P'fessor." He said politely.

"So I see, Potter." Snape said mildly, and Poppy could have sworn he smiled faintly at the lad before the child disappeared down the corridor at a flat run, his footfalls fading into the distance towards the nearest stairs down.

"Potter?!" Poppy said in shock. "No **wonder** he looked familiar!" Severus smiled at her wryly.

"Yes, Poppy, that is our resident celebrity." He said in his deep, soft voice. Poppy frowned at him.

"And why are you not hating his guts?" she asked rhetorically. "You and his father **loathed** each other, so why are **you** of all people actually seeming to care about him?"

"Because something about Mr Potter does not ring quite true." Severus said bluntly. "In fact something about Mr Potter smacks of child abuse, if my experience with my little Snakes over all these years has taught me anything. What did you think of him?"

"Very quiet. Shy. **Small**, which I find slightly odd as neither James nor Lily were below average in height. I would never have pegged Harry as 11 years old, 8 or 9 possibly but never 11."

"Hmmm. And he did not eat much at dinner last night, and all he had for breakfast was three slices of toast. Oh, and half a jar of marmalade." Snape added with a smile, and Poppy smiled in return.

"Likes his marmalade, then."

"Apparently so. It wasn't so much toast with marmalade as marmalade with a bit of toast. Nevertheless, that is not much for a growing boy, if his friends are anything to go by. Even the girl he seems to have made friends with is taller than him, and she is only average for her age."

"Hmm. I think we will have to keep an eye on our young Mr Potter, Severus. Let us get some more evidence or indeed inklings of what the problems are before we say anything to Dumbledore. I'll talk to Minerva, she is his Head of House and will be able to keep a closer eye on him than we can." Poppy nodded abruptly as she made her plans, and Snape grunted in agreement before leaving in a swirl of black cloak.

Meanwhile Harry skidded to a halt outside his Transfiguration classroom and knocked timidly on the door, pushing it open at a strict "Come!" from inside. Professor McGonagall, standing in front of the class of mixed Gryffindors and Ravenclaws with her back to her desk and the blackboard, looked down at him with her customary stern expression.

"Sorry 'm late, P'fessor. P'fessor Snape sent me to the Infirmary for my bruise." Harry said shyly, aware of the class staring at him. McGonagall nodded.

"Yes, Mr Potter, Miss Granger informed me of that fact. Take your seat, if you please." She nodded at an empty seat next to Hermione and Neville at the front of the classroom, and Harry slid into it hastily with a sigh of relief before pulling out his wand.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:** As usual, I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter or his world. Wish I did!_

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my little story! Much appreciated – especially seeing as everyone seems to like it so far! I am going to try and update at least once a week, if not more often. Got a few chapters written so far but it's my NaNoWriMo effort for this year so it'll probably slow down once November's finished and I can stop typing like a dervish in an effort to get 50K words done by 30th November! But I WILL finish this story – eventually.**

**For all those people who have asked what's going to happen with Harry and is he going to live with Snape – to be honest I have absolutely NO idea. As usual when I write anything, I just let my fingers do the talking and see what happens. I'll let you know when I find out! All I've decided so far is that Harry is probably not going to be going back to the Dursleys, although that may change!**

**Anyway, hope you all like the next instalment!**

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The Transfiguration double period that was the Gryffindors' first lesson in Hogwarts was followed by a single period of Charms, which finished in time for lunch.

Harry trotted out of the Charms classroom after Neville, who had shared a desk with him, and the two boys stopped outside the door to wait for Hermione and Ron. The bushy haired girl and long lanky red-head emerged from the classroom almost last, after Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, the other two Gryffindor first year boys, and were still arguing. Harry rolled his eyes at Neville, who shrugged helplessly.

"Look, shut up already!" Ron bellowed halfway to the Great Hall. "OK, I was doing it wrong, but will you stop going on and on about it!" He glowered down at Hermione, whose mouth had fallen open in surprise at the outburst. Then Ron saw the stunned expressions on the faces of Harry and Neville and slowly turned a painful shade of red before rushing off to catch up with Seamus and Dean, ducking his head in embarrassment. Hermione blinked, sniffling a little as the shock wore off, and Harry patted her shoulder tentatively.

"C'mon, Hermione, he didn't mean it like it sounded." The black-haired boy said comfortingly. "You do have a tendency to rabbit on about classes, you know, and Ron's not into that sort of thing at all, is he? He'd much rather just forget about the last class as soon as he can." Hermione managed a shaky smile as Neville nodded fervently in agreement, and the trio started walking towards the Great Hall again.

"I know, Harry, but it was a bit of a shock when he suddenly yelled at me." Hermione confessed as they skipped down the stairs into the Entrance Hall. "I didn't have many friends at primary school as everyone thought I was too bossy and a know-it-all, and I don't really fancy going through Hogwarts in the same boat for another seven years!" Neville snorted.

"Don't be daft, 'Mione. You've already got friends, even if Ron's too much of a pillock to talk to you ever again. You've got me and Harry, haven't you?" He looked down over Hermione's head at Harry, who nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Yeah, you have. Just don't start nagging us to do our homework!" Harry sniggered, and Hermione managed a weak chuckle.

"Well, if you do it, I won't have to nag you, will I?" she said logically, and Harry groaned as Neville laughed.

"Busted, Harry." The freckled boy said, and Harry sighed.

"Yup, shot down in my prime." He said mournfully as the trio entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table. Hermione patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, smiling again.

"Never mind, Harry, I promise not to nag you **too **much." She teased, and Harry sighed again in mock despair as the trio reached empty seats at the far end of the table and climbed over the benches. Harry ended up sitting with his back to the rest of the room, next to a pretty blonde girl called Lavender Brown, and Hermione and Neville sat opposite him with Neville next to Parvati Patil.

"Hi, Harry." Lavender said brightly, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Harry slanted a glance sideways at her and raised his eyebrows.

"Have you got something in your eye, Lavender?" he asked in concern, and she stammered a disclaimer and turned away to talk to the person on her other side. Hermione dissolved into giggles over her sandwiches, and Harry looked at her quizzically.

"What?" he said, and the girl just shook her head, unable to stop laughing.

"I'll tell you later." She wheezed between giggles, and Harry and Neville exchanged bemused looks before turning back their lunches.

"How is the black eye, Mr Potter?" said Professor McGonagall's soft Scottish voice behind Harry half an hour later, just as he picked up his fourth sandwich. Harry twisted round on the bench at Hermione's scowl of instruction, and his tall Head of House backed up a couple of paces before looking at his bruised eye measuringly. Harry sat frozen still, relieved that she had backed up so she wasn't looming over him quite so much, but he still flinched instinctively as her right hand reached towards his face carefully.

"Relax, Harry, I'm not going to hurt you." McGonagall said softly, and in fact she went so far as to crouch down so she was on eye level with the small boy. "I just need to feel the edges of the bruise, okay?" Her sharp blue eyes met his emerald green ones forthrightly, and Harry nodded reluctantly. He managed not to flinch as his Head of House knelt on the floor before him and gently touched the edge of his shiner with the tips of her long fingers, but a small hiss of pain did escape him as she pressed carefully around the edge of the bruising.

"Sorry, Harry." McGonagall withdrew her hand, and folded both hands in her lap as Harry relaxed slightly.

"Still sore, I see?" She asked rhetorically, looking at the smallest of her new Gryffindors.

"Yes, P'fessor." Harry said softly. "Not as bad as it was, though."

"No, the bruising is definitely going. It is smaller now than it was when you came to Transfiguration. Did Madam Pomfrey give you any more bruise cream?"

"Yes, P'fessor." Harry fished in the pocket of his robes and pulled out the small blue jar, displaying it for her to see. "She said to put it on every morning and night until the bruise has gone, and to go see her if I need any more."

"Hmm. That should be enough to get rid of it. It's a few days old anyway, isn't it Harry?" McGonagall's blue eyes looked at him kindly, and he felt himself blushing red as he nodded once.

"Two days old, I think now." He mumbled, and his Professor patted his hands where they were clenched in his lap.

"Never mind, Harry. You don't have to worry about it until next Summer, do you?"

"What about Christmas, P'fessor?" Harry asked in surprise, daring to ask a question at the kind look in her eyes. "Won't I have to go back for Christmas?"

"No, Harry, you won't. Hogwarts stays open at Christmas, there are several Professors who don't leave and often a few students stay over the holidays. Those whose family is away or who have no family to go to. In fact I think the Weasleys are staying this year – I believe their parents are going to Romania to see their brother Charlie." She rose to her feet in a smooth swirl of tartan robes, and looked down the table to see Ron huddled with Seamus and Dean several seats away. "Although that may not be a good thing if you are not friendly with Ron."

"Oh, Ron's all right P'fessor." Harry said with a shrug. "Anyway Fred 'n' George seem to like me." McGonagall looked down at him in surprise.

"Really? Goodness me." She said in surprise. "You are honoured, Mr Potter. The Terrible Twosome do not take a liking to many students at all."

"Hey, Professor McGongall." Chirped a voice from the other side of the table, behind Hermione and Neville who both jumped.

"Our ears were burning." George said with a wicked smile,

"So we figured someone was talking about us." Fred completed. McGonagall shot them a disillusioned glance and sighed in long-suffering patience.

"I was just congratulating Mr Potter here on having had the privilege of talking to you and **not** being pranked by you." She said sternly, and the twins shrugged.

"We haven't pranked him yet, Professor,"

"But we can't make any promises."

"Indeed. Have you seen Professor Snape since your debacle in Potions this morning?"

"Detention –"

"Tonight –"

"8 pm." The twins said gloomily, and McGongall's lips twitched at their crestfallen expressions.

"Serves you both right. You should know better than to cause chaos in Potions on the first day of term, boys. I will see you at dinner, Harry, and I want to see you eating more than three sandwiches for lunch tomorrow, OK?"

"Yes, P'fessor." Harry said, nodding obediently. "I'll try."

"Good lad." McGonagall sailed away down the Hall towards the doors, and Harry turned back to his lunch with a relieved sigh as the twins sat down next to him and Hermione.

"So what did you do in Potions, then?" Harry asked curiously, reaching cautiously for his sandwich.

"Can't tell you, Harry." Fred said solemnly from beside him.

"That would be corrupting the innocent," George added,

"Besides, it was such a good idea that we might need to use it again,"

"Though not for a while, Gred."

"No, Forge, let Snapey forget first," Fred agreed with a shudder. "He wasn't happy at all, was he?"

"No, Gred, he was not." George leaned down towards Harry conspiratorially.

"Remember, Harry, do **not** go out of your way to annoy Professor Snape."

"Unless you're us, of course." Fred chipped in from across the table.

"Well, obviously, Gred,"

"We go out of our way to annoy everyone,"

"It's what we do best."

"And you are both so good at it, as well." Said an unfamiliar voice from behind Harry and Fred, and the two twisted to look behind them.

"Afternoon, Headmaster, sir." Fred said cheerfully, totally unabashed at seeing Professor Dumbledore standing behind him.

"Good afternoon, Mr Weasley." Dumbledore twinkled his blue eyes at Fred and then at the small first year sitting next to him. Harry just blinked back, not entirely sure he trusted Dumbledore yet. After all, he reasoned to himself, Dumbledore must have known how the Dursleys treated him, if he was as great a wizard as Hagrid had said. His Hogwarts letter had been addressed to his cupboard, for heaven's sake, so somebody must have known!

"I see you have a nice shiner, Mr Potter." Dumbledore said amiably, his blue eyes twinkling still. Harry shrugged and nodded, not saying a word, and saw Dumbledore smile as he assumed Harry was just too shy to talk. "I believe Madam Pomfrey is aware of the bruise and has given you something for it?"

Harry nodded again, playing dumb. The charm Dumbledore was exerting on him was just making him twice as wary of the Headmaster, who was standing a little too close for Harry's comfort anyway even though he was carefully not making any sudden moves.

"And what is your next lesson after lunch, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked, plowing on with the conversation despite Harry's pretence of shyness.

"It's potions Headmaster." Hermione piped up from across the table. "Double period with the Slytherins." Harry blinked at the flash of something in Dumbledore's blue eyes as they glanced over the table at Hermione, then the Headmaster was twinkling down at him again as if the girl had never spoken.

"Well, I'm obviously not going to get a verbal answer out of you today, am I Mr Potter?" he said in amusement, and smiled at the group of first years and the Weasley twins with more than a hint of superiority. "I will leave you to your lunches. Enjoy your afternoon's classes." He wandered away down the Great Hall towards the door, and George looked down at Harry with raised eyebrows.

"Why didn't you talk to him?" he asked curiously. "Dumbledore's OK."

"Is he?" Harry said sceptically. "According to Hagrid he's the one who left me with the bloody Dursleys, and he must have known how they treat me. So why should I trust him?"

"How would he know how the Dursleys treat you?" Fred asked in surprise.

"Because my Hogwarts letter was addressed to 'Mr H Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs'." Said Harry, looking at him as if he was stupid. "So whoever wrote the letter obviously knew I had to sleep in the cupboard, and it was signed by Headmaster Dumbledore so I bet he knew." He scowled down the Hall after the vanished Headmaster. "Anyway, I just don't trust him. He was trying too hard to be nice and friendly."

"That's 'cos you're famous, Harry." Neville said cheerfully, and the black haired boy snorted.

"Yeah, right. Works a treat on the Slytherins then, don't it?" he said sarcastically, and the others laughed.

"Professor Dumbledore's right, anyway." Hermione said, swallowing the last of her pumpkin juice. "We'd better get going – we don't want to be late for Potions."

"God no." Neville said faintly, scrambling up after the bushy haired girl.

"Good luck, Harry." George said cheerfully as he and Fred rose to head for their next class.

"See you at Dinner if you survive the afternoon." Fred said with a mischievous grin, and Harry rolled his eyes as he trotted after Neville and Hermione.

"Later, guys." He said over his shoulder, passing Ron Seamus and Dean as the other three Gryffindor boys rose.

The Gryffindors reached the dungeons and found the first year Slytherins lined up against the wall outside the Potions classroom in single file. They stared at Harry silently as he passed in the middle of the Gryffindor clump, and the boy ignored them as he lined up with his fellow Gryffindor first years on the other side of the door from the Slytherins. He could feel Draco Malfoy's eyes burning a hole in his head, but refused to look at the blond snob, despite the muttering from the Slytherins.

"What's up, Potter? Too scared to look at a nasty Slytherin?" Draco shouted down the corridor after a few moments. Harry snorted.

"Sure I am, Malfoy. Don't want to crack the lenses of my glasses looking at your ugly face, do I?" he retorted, and was encouraged by sniggers from the other Gryffindors as Draco fell silent, unable to think of a good response to that one at the moment. The blond boy was saved from having to respond by the door of the Potions room swinging open with an ominous creak, and the two groups of first years filed in and scattered to their preferred desks. Harry found himself sitting with Ron, who shrugged at him in embarrassed but pleased greeting.

"Hey Ron."

"Harry. Apologise to Hermione for me, will ya?" Ron asked softly, and Harry snorted.

"Do it yourself, she doesn't bite you know." He fell silent as Professor Snape suddenly strode through the dungeon from the back and halted at the front by his desk and the blackboard, turning in a billow of black robes to frown down at the awed first years facing him. Harry, his green eyes fixed on the Professor's sallow, hook-nosed face, could have sworn he saw a tiny smirk cross Snape's lips as he took in the spell-bound 11 year olds gaping up at him, but he forgot it when Snape started to speak in his soft, silky voice.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses …. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." He glared down at the class with cold black eyes, then his wand snapped out to point at Malfoy.

"Malfoy! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged blankly as Malfoy stuttered for a moment then managed to get out,

"The Draught of Living Death, sir." In a half-scared squeak. Although Snape was the Head of Slytherin House, it seemed the Slytherins were almost as terrified of him in class as the Gryffindors were!

"Good. Potter!" Harry gulped nervously as Snape's black eyes fastened on him. "Where would I find a bezoar?"

"Um, in a goat's stomach, sir?" Harry quavered, and had the satisfaction of seeing Snape's eyebrows rise in mild surprise.

"Correct. Longbottom!" Neville let out a faint whimper where he sat beside Hermione on the desk beside Harry & Ron's.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape snapped, and Neville's eyes opened wide as he realised he had been asked a question he could actually answer!

"Nothing sir. They are the same plant." He said, secure in his love of Herbology, and Snape looked surprised again.

"Correct again. I do believe this class may not be a complete waste of my time after all. We have a few students who actually seem to have read their textbooks before the start of term." The tall potions professor gave a small smirk. "Will wonders never cease." He turned and flicked his wand at the board behind him, and instructions for a boil-removing potion appeared there.

"This is your class assignment for today. The store cupboard is at the back of the room, form an orderly file before it – DO NOT RUSH MR WEASLEY!" Ron froze in mid step then cautiously walked forwards towards the store cupboard and the queue before it. Snape grunted. "Proceed." The first years bent over their cauldrons industriously, all of them trying to avoid Snape's gaze as they worked.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with his world. That honour belongs to JK Rowling the lucky so and so!

Thank you for all the reviews and to everyone who has added my little story to their Favourite Stories – I'm so flattered I could blush. For everyone who has asked what Dumbledore is up to and whether Harry is going to admit the abuse to a Professor – to be quite honest at the moment I've no idea. I'm pretty much making it up as I go along, frankly. I'm going to try and keep the major events of the canon in, ie meeting Fluffy, the troll getting in, Voldemort in the back of Quirrell's head, etc, but apart from that it's 'seat of the pants' writing, I'm afraid. I'm also planning on updating hopefully about once a week, probably on Sundays.

Hope everyone likes the next chapter, anyways!

"Merlin's pants, how much homework have we got?!?" Ron moaned as the first years piled out of their last class and headed for Gryffindor Tower to dump their books and bags before lunch. "And on the first day of term, as well?"

"I know, it's awful." Seamus said commiseratingly from behind the tall red head, and Harry grunted in agreement.

"Think I'd rather go live with the Dursleys again if this is how much homework we're going to get every day." He complained, and Ron snorted.

"Yeah, right, Harry. You'll have all yours done by tomorrow night." He said mockingly, and Harry let out a snort of laughter.

"Only if Hermione helps!" Hermione, walking in front with Neville, flipped him a rude sign over her shoulder, and the boys laughed.

"Hermione Granger!" Harry said in mock horror. "I didn't know you knew such awful gestures!" He made his voice go high and horrified like his Aunt Petunia's, and saw Hermione's shoulders shake with laughter.

"God, I'm starved." Ron moaned as the Gryffindors reached the Fat Lady. "Caput Draconis." Neville said, and the portrait swung open to let them pile through the portrait hole and scramble hastily up to their rooms to dump their bags. Ron flung his bag onto his bed from halfway across the room, and spun on his heel to charge back down the steep stairs.

"If you trip over them clodhopper feet and go flyin' I am so goin' to laugh." Dean said, pelting down after him.

"Well if he does at least we'll all have a nice soft landin'." Seamus called, as he followed at a more sensible pace with Harry and Neville close behind him.

A week later Harry and his fellow first years had pretty much settled into the school routine. Harry had started trying to draw a map of Hogwarts, mainly of his routes to and from classes but also to other places of interest or use such as Hagrid's Hut and the Quidditch pitch. He had always been fond of maps, liking to look at them and imagine places he had never been, and had attempted to draw them before while living with the Dursleys whenever he could get his hands on some paper. He was hunched over a table in the Common Room that Sunday evening working on his map again, having finished all his assignments for the following week's classes, when Hermione plopped into a chair next to him and leant over to have a look.

"That's good, Harry." She said in approval, and the black-haired boy smiled at her.

"Wish I could find some way to get the stairs to move, though." He said thoughtfully, frowning down on the map.

"Cartomancy charms is what you'd probably need." Hermione said. "But I think they are in the Restricted Section so it might have to wait a year or two." Harry shrugged.

"If I don't get kicked out for being crap at magic, I'll have a look in a couple of years, then." He said mockingly, and Hermione smiled.

"You aren't crap at magic." She said teasingly. "You're doing all right in class, aren't you?"

"Yeah, so far." Harry shrugged. "Not expecting it to last. Nice things never do." He shrugged, bending over his map again. "Something always goes wrong." He fell silent then, concentrating on his drawing with his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. Hermione smiled at the sight and picked up the heavy book she had laid on the table before her.

"Hey, Harry, whatcha doing?" Fred asked half an hour later, as the twins appeared beside the black haired boy. Harry, still bent over his map, jumped with a squeak of surprise as Hermione's head jerked up from her book.

"Not still doing homework, are ya?" George said cheerfully, just as Ron scrambled in through the portrait hole with Dean and Seamus close behind. Harry shook his head, folding his map away carefully after corking his ink.

"Hey, guys." Ron flopped into a chair next to Hermione, his blue eyes shining. "You'll never guess what our first lesson is tomorrow!" His twin brothers, Harry and Hermione looked at the excited red head in surprise, amazed at seeing Ron actually excited about a lesson!

"You feeling okay, Ronniekins?" George asked in mock concern.

"Yeah, do we need to owl mum that you're not yourself?" Ron waved a hand in dismissal.

"Flying! Flying lessons first thing tomorrow, right after breakfast! Wicked or what?!?" He grinned at Harry and Hermione, who exchanged a speaking look then both shrugged. Ron's face fell.

"What? Flying's brilliant!"

"We wouldn't know, Ron." Hermione said patiently. "We were both raised by muggles, remember?"

"Well, duh." Fred said, swiping at Ron's head over the table. Harry, caught by surprise as the tall 13 year old leant over him, flinched with an instinctive gasp before he could catch himself, and George pulled Fred upright hastily as the small first year hunched into the deep armchair he was perched in, his arms shielding his head protectively.

"Harry!" Ron gaped at his friend as Hermione, ignoring the fuss from the Weasley brothers, shoved her chair back and gently caught Harry's forearms in her small hands.

"Harry, its okay. You're at Hogwarts, remember. No one's going to hurt you, it's just Fred being an idiot like all the Weasleys." She said in a low, reassuring voice, squeezing Harry's forearms gently. Harry's shoulders quivered as he started breathing again in rapid gasps for air, but his arms relaxed under Hermione's ministrations enough for her to be able to pull them down and look him in the eye.

"Yeah, sorry Harry." Fred said shamefacedly, watching from a safe distance, i.e. the other side of George, as the bushy haired girl managed to get Harry to relax into the armchair. Harry's green eyes were fixed on Hermione's face as she kept repeating that he was safe and at Hogwarts, ignoring the Weasley boys in favour of snapping Harry out of his terror. She sighed in relief when Harry finally relaxed fully, and turned to glare up at Fred like a miniature spitfire.

"You blithering idiot!" she hissed at the startled twin, who backed up a pace or two instinctively. "You know what Harry's home life was like, how could you do that to him!"

"Merlin, is she channelling mum?" Fred whimpered to George, who was looking down at Hermione with amazed respect.

"I think she might be, mate." Hermione's lips twitched at that, as she and Harry had heard plenty of tales of the forbiddable Weasley matriach by that point, and Harry managed a weak giggle where he was slumped limply in his chair.

"You deserved it, you moron." Hermione snapped, before turning back to her friend.

"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked, placing a hand cautiously on his shoulder. Harry nodded, and wobbled to his feet.

"Yeah. Thanks, 'Mione. Think I'll go to bed."

"Night, Harry." Ron and George said, and an embarrassed mumble followed from Fred. Harry smiled wanly up at the tall red head.

"It's OK, Fred. You just caught me by surprise when you lunged over me, that's all." He waved a good night to his friends and stumbled off up the stairs to his dormitory, doing his best to hide his still-rapid breathing and shaking hands from them until he was out of sight. He staggered up the stairs into the first year's bedroom and collapsed face down onto his bed, rousing himself enough to take his glasses off and place them on his bedside table before burying his face in his pillows and giving in to the shakes. He had learnt through his years under his aunt and uncle's 'tender' care that he could only ignore his body's reaction for a certain amount of time.

"_God, when I am going to be able to stop flinching at every sudden move?" _he thought to himself bitterly, ignoring the occasional hot tear that trickled down his nose into the pillows. "_No one's going to want to have anything to do with me if I can't even spend half an hour without freaking out every time somebody moves suddenly! Anyone would think I was a little kid."_ He pulled a pillow over his head and folded his arms on top of it as his eyes burned and his fists clenched in despair and self-loathing.

By the time Ron came up the stairs with Neville an hour later, Harry had fallen asleep, worn out by the sudden emotional stress. Neville padded past Harry's bed on the way to his own, then stopped dead halfway between the two as he caught sight of Harry's peculiar sleeping position out of the corner of his eye. He snorted quietly with laughter, and Ron looked over at him from the other side of Harry's bed.

"What?" the red head asked softly, and Neville gestured at Harry.

"Have you seen how he's fallen asleep?" he whispered, his shoulders shaking with laughter, and Ron's mouth curved in a grin as he took in Harry's position. The small boy had fallen asleep with his head between two pillows and his fingers laced on the top of the topmost pillow, stretched face down across his bed and still fully dressed.

"Merlin's pants." Ron chuckled. "Think we should take his shoes and trousers off, at least, and try get him under the covers, don't you?"

"Unless you want to get Hermione up here to help?" Neville suggested, and Ron looked horrified.

"Are you kidding? Harry'd kill us, if he didn't die of embarrassment first! A **girl**, undressing him? Wouldn't wish that on Malfoy." Neville sniggered, and Ron amended with a shrug, "Well, okay, maybe Malfoy. If I was having a really bad day."

"The tart'd probably just enjoy it." Neville said, and Ron giggled. He got hold of Harry's left foot and started pulling Harry's shoe off, but was so rough that Harry woke up with a gasp and an instinctive kick to free his leg. Ron yelped and dodged as Harry flipped over onto his back and scrambled up towards his headboard defensively, still half-asleep.

"Whoa, Harry, it's okay, it's just us." Neville said quickly, and Harry's sleep-dazed green eyes flicked to his blurred face. He blinked a couple of times and sagged with a sigh, waking up completely and fumbling for his glasses.

"What'n'ell were you doin' to my feet, Ron?" he mumbled, blinking at the gaping red head. Ron shrugged.

"Trying to get your shoes off so you could sleep more comfortably. You'll want to be rested for flying lessons tomorrow, after all." Harry and Neville both rolled their eyes, and Ron shrugged.

"I like flying." He said, and Harry snorted.

"Never would have guessed." He said sarcastically, and Ron pulled a face at him.

"Well, that's an improvement." Neville said, turning away to his bed. "Unlike letting me on a broom will be."

"Why, brooms aren't that bad." Ron said blankly, and Neville sighed.

"Remember who you're talking to, Ron? I can fall over my own feet on solid ground given half a chance, how safe do you think **I'm** going to be on a broom?"

"Hmm, yeah, good point. Maybe Madam Hooch can put a sticking charm on you or your broom."

"Oh, wonderful idea." Neville's sarcastic response was muffled as he pulled his sweater and T-shirt off. "That means when the broom goes mental, like it probably will if I even manage to get it off the ground, I won't even be able to bail out if I'm low enough!" He dropped his clothes on his bed and pulled on his pyjama jacket. "I think I'll just ask if I can sit flying lessons out. Hermione's planning on asking the same thing – I don't think she likes the idea of having both feet off terra firma at once." Harry managed a weak chuckle.

"Not that fond of the idea myself, to be honest." He said as he pulled on his pyjamas. "I've got a fairly good sense of balance, but I've never seen a broomstick outside of cleaning implements before. It always looked a bit insecure in Halloween pictures." He looked up as Seamus and Dean came into the room, yawning cavernously as they headed for their beds, as Ron and Neville looked at him blankly.

"Halloween pictures?" Ron said questioningly, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You know, the drawings you make as kids of witches riding broomsticks. Side-saddle, at that." He blinked at the blank looks of the two boys from wizarding families, and Dean sniggered from the other side of the room.

"Obviously it's only us muggle-born kids that draw those pictures, Harry. If their faces got any blanker we could use them for canvas." Harry laughed as Dean waved his hand around at Neville, Ron and Seamus, who all scowled at the two muggle-born (or raised in Harry's case) boys before getting ready for bed.

"I give up, you two are weird." Seamus said grumpily as he climbed into his bed 15 minutes later, and Neville and Ron seconded him. Dean shrugged at Harry across the room, and the black haired boy grinned at him.

"Talk about pot calling kettle." He said, and Dean laughed as he burrowed under his own blankets. Harry blew out the candle on his bedside table and snuggled down under his blankets, cheered up by the banter with his new-found friends even if deep down he didn't believe they would want to stay friends for long. He nodded off to sleep while musing on that in a vague, sleepy way, wondering why he was expecting everything to go hideously wrong at any moment.

Ron was actually up first the next morning. This was an almost unprecedented occurrence since the start of term a week ago – the youngest Weasley boy was a great lover of his bed and his sleep and normally the only thing that could stir him was the lure of breakfast. Harry thought the Hogwarts food was the best he had ever tasted, but Ron was always comparing it to his mum's apparently miraculous cooking and it usually came off second-best.

Harry groaned in complaint as Ron bounced onto the end of his four-poster bed, and pulled his pillow over his head with a snarl of protest.

"C'mon, Harry, get up! You'll miss breakfast, and then you'll miss flying!" Ron said excitedly, and loudly. There were formless growls of complaint from the other three beds as Harry sat up, belted Ron with a pillow and collapsed back under his blankets again.

"Piss off, Ron, it's not even dawn yet. Go bug the chairs in the Common Room or something." Harry growled, yanking the pillow he had just hit Ron with over his head and curling up into a tight ball. Ron whined but did disappear for a while, and Harry was just falling back asleep when the hyperactive red head was back on the end of his bed again.

"C'mon, Harry, please. Nobody else is up yet and I'm booooored." Harry's green eyes peeked out from under his pillow with a murderous look in them, and Ron blinked puppy-dog eyes at him hopefully.

"Ronald, have Fred and George been feeding you sugar again?" Harry asked sternly, resisting the pleading look in Ron's blue eyes. Ron snorted.

"No. I tried to get them up but just got threatened with being strung up naked in the Great Hall for breakfast if I didn't leave them alone. C'mon, Harry, pleeeeease get up." He begged shamelessly, and Harry heaved a great sigh under his pillow.

"Yeah, Harry, get up." Seamus said sourly from his bed further across the round tower dormitory. "Then maybe the red heided eejit'll give us enough peace and quiet to get another hour's kip." Ron pouted as Harry snorted.

"So why do I have to get up, then?"

"'Cos it's you the twat's buggin', isn't it?" Seamus retorted, and Harry let out a defeated sigh. He pulled the pillow of his head and sat up, rubbing his hands through his messy black hair before putting his glasses on and glaring at Ron sternly.

"Look, Weasley, bugger off and wait in the Common Room for me, okay? Otherwise you're just going to get yourself killed. I'll be down in a bit." Ron grinned and bounced to his feet and out the door, and Harry snorted. He slid out of bed and found his school uniform, scrambling some clean clothes together out of his trunk before shoving his slippers on and padding off to the showers.

Ron bounced out of an armchair beside the fire as Harry reached the Common Room half an hour later, his black hair still damp from the shower. Hermione descended the stairs from the girl's dormitories five minutes after him, this being her usual time to get up so she could get some extra reading of schoolbooks in before breakfast, and blinked in surprise at seeing both Harry and Ron up, awake and dressed in uniform.

"What on earth are you two doing up so early?" She asked in surprise, sitting down on the couch next to Harry. Harry's green eyes flicked her a glance and he gestured sourly at the excited Ron fidgeting in the armchair.

"Mr 5 year old over there couldn't sleep from excitement and decided I had to get up and keep him company. I think he's excited over something, but I can't for the life of me remember what." His lips quirked as he said this last, and he counted silently to Hermione, reaching 'three' before Ron burst out "Flying, Harry, flying!" Hermione's face went slightly paler as she remembered, her hands clenched around the heavy book in her lap like it was her security blanket.

"Oh dear God, I forgot that was our first lesson." She said faintly, but she was distracted from her nerves by the sight of Ron bouncing in his armchair like an overgrown toddler.

"Has someone been feeding him sugar?" she asked Harry, who shook his head gloomily.

"If he's like this over flying lessons when he can apparently already fly, I hate to think what he's going to be like at Christmas. Almost enough to make me go stay with the Dursleys again!"

"You think this is bad, Harry." Fred said from the stairway, slouching into the Common Room with George close behind him.

"He's ten times worse than this at Christmas." George completed, as the three first years blinked at the twins.

"Why are you two up so early?" Hermione asked in surprise. Fred grimaced, and waved a roll of parchment at her.

"Unfinished assignment. For Snape, at that, so we'd best get it done eh George?"

"Yeah. Anyway, our idiotic younger brother decided he was going to wake us up in his sugar shock, and we couldn't get back to sleep." The twins slouched into chairs at a nearby table as Harry twisted round to look over the back of the couch at them.

"Did you really threaten to string him up naked in the Great Hall if he didn't leave you alone?"

"Hell, yeah. You think we **want** to be woken up at 7 am?" George glared at Ron, who was oblivious, and Harry grinned.

"Oh, well, I'm going down for breakfast now I'm up. Are you two coming?" He scrambled to his feet and looked down at Hermione and Ron questioningly. Hermione nodded and rose from the couch, and Ron followed once Harry hit him on the arm to get his attention.

"Breakfast, Ron!" he yelled in the red head's ear, and Ron jumped to his feet.

"Okay, cool." He loped after Harry and Hermione out of the portrait hole, still bouncing about flying lessons.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with his world. That honour belongs to JK Rowling the lucky so and so!

Thank you for all the reviews and to everyone who has added my little story to their Favourite Stories – I'm so flattered I could blush. Success has been reached in NaNoWriMo – I hit 50K words Yay for me!! - but the updates hopefully will keep coming so long as writer's block don't hit!

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Harry, Hermione and Ron were among the first students into the Great Hall. There were a couple of first year Slytherins at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy being one of them, and one Ravenclaw at that table as Harry and Hermione entered the Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table, Ron bouncing along behind them like an over-excited puppy. Harry heard Draco Malfoy's drawling voice holding forth about how good he was on a broom to his companion, which a quick glance showed to be Pansy Parkinson, and the black haired lad rolled his eyes at Hermione. She smiled back wanly as the pair sat down at the Gryffindor table, and Harry yanked Ron down beside him.

"Sit down and eat your breakfast, Ron, before I lose all patience and slaughter you." He groused as the red head yipped as his butt hit the seat. "You are **really** annoying me this morning."

"Join the club, Harry." Hermione said, helping herself to a bowl of cornflakes as the plates and bowls on their part of the Gryffindor table filled with food. Harry smiled wryly and reached for a couple of pieces of toast and the marmalade, in his normal morning routine. He let out a grunt of protest as Hermione abruptly slid two rashers of bacon onto his plate, under his arm as he stretched for the marmalade jar, and he scowled at her. She blinked back, unperturbed by the dirty look.

"You need to eat more, Harry. You'll never catch us up height-wise if you don't eat enough."

"Hermione, I'll never catch you up height-wise anyway." Harry said tiredly. "I'm a short-arse, and I'm likely to stay one."

"Don't see why. You'll get your dreaded male growth spurt thing in a few years, and you could surprise all of us and reach 7 feet tall." Hermione teased, and Harry snorted.

"Yeah, right. Anyway, there's a limit to how much I can eat at one go, you know. And I'd rather have toast and marmalade than manky old bacon."

"Well, eat the bacon then you can stuff your face on marmalade and toast till you pop, okay?"

"Why should I?" Harry said mutinously, his bottom lip sticking out mulishly, and Hermione batted her eyelashes at him.

"Just humour me, okay?" she said, making big brown puppy dog eyes at him, and Harry's lips twitched into a smile.

"Oh, okay. Anything for a quiet life." He slanted a glance sideways at Ron, who was stuffing two pancakes into his mouth at once, and rolled his eyes at Hermione. "Just be glad I don't eat as much as Ron, 'Mione." Hermione glanced at the red head and grimaced, looking away quickly.

"Eeew, don't." She protested, revolted by the sight of Ron trying to eat two pancakes at once, with his mouth open. "I'm surprised he isn't the size of a beached whale." Harry snorted.

"He's too hyper to gain weight, if this morning is anything to go by." He said sourly, and Hermione giggled.

"Morning, guys." Neville said, slumping onto the bench next to Hermione, across from Ron. Harry blinked at the freckled boy, seeing the pallor of Neville's face, and smiled at his friend.

"You still nervous over flying lessons, Nev?" he asked amiably, and watched with interest as the blood drained from Hermione's face as well. Neville scowled at Harry half-heartedly, too nervous to be really annoyed.

"Stop calling me Nev." He grumbled. "And yes, I'm terrified. Thank you so much for reminding me." Harry smiled and shrugged, and arched an eyebrow at Hermione as he finished his last piece of bacon.

"Can I have my toast and marmalade now?" he asked mockingly, slathering marmalade on his first piece of toast. Hermione looked at his plate, saw the bacon had been eaten and nodded, her mouth full of cornflakes.

"Thanks, mum." Harry said ironically, and the bushy-haired girl smiled.

"Ooo, Harry, there's Professor McGonagall!" she said 10 minutes later, seeing their tall Head of House leaving the Head Table. "Stop her for me, please?" Harry sighed and turned around on the bench, looking up at the approaching Professor. McGonagall caught his eye and came to a halt just past Ron, her eyebrows rising questioningly.

"Did you want me, Mr Potter?" she asked, and Harry shook his head.

"No, P'fessor. But Hermione did." He turned back to his toast with a shy smile for the Professor as McGonagall shifted her gaze to Hermione quizzically.

"Please, Professor, I was just wondering if flying lessons were compulsory." Hermione asked hesitantly, and McGonagall smiled.

"Attendance is, Miss Granger. If you are obviously not suited to riding a broom, Madame Hooch will excuse you from the flying part of the lesson, but it is necessary to attend the lesson first to ensure that if you are able to command a broom you are properly trained. Safety, you see."

"Oh, okay. Thanks, Professor." Hermione said, slightly disappointed, as Neville drooped next to her. McGonagall smiled at the nervous pair reassuringly.

"Don't worry. I am sure both of you will be fine." She said reassuringly, then caught sight of Harry's marmalade-buried piece of toast over his shoulder as she was about to walk away. "Goodness me, Mr Potter, have you got enough marmalade on that toast?" she asked in amusement, and Harry's shoulders hunched instinctively. He straightened with an abrupt shake of his shoulders, and managed to smile shyly up at his Head of House with a shrug.

"I like marmalade, P'fessor." He said, and McGonagall smiled.

"I can tell that, Harry, but you do need to eat a slightly healthier breakfast than that, you know." Harry blinked up at her, startled at the use of his first name, then shrugged.

"I've had two pieces of bacon as well, P'fessor. Hermione made me." He slanted an amused glower at his friend, who shrugged, and McGonagall nodded at her.

"Good for you, Miss Granger. Keep up the good work, and you, Harry, try and eat healthier for me, okay?"

"Yes Ma'am." Harry nodded obediently, and McGonagall smiled.

"Enjoy your flying lesson, children." She said, and set off down the Hall again.

"Can we go to flying lessons yet?" Ron said, swallowing a mouthful of food so he could talk. The red head had pretty much ignored the conversation Harry and Hermione had just had with McGonagall in favour of stuffing his face, but he looked up as Seamus and Dean sat down next to him and Neville with a welcoming nod.

"Quit bouncing off the walls yet Ron?" Seamus asked sourly, reaching for the bacon and eggs. Ron shrugged as Harry snorted.

"Doubt it, Seamus. I've tied him to the bench and he hasn't even noticed." He said as he picked up his second piece of toast. Parvati and Lavender sat down next to him and Hermione as he said that. Ron frowned at Harry and ducked under the table to check, and the other first years burst out laughing as the red head fell for Harry's mild prank. Ron sat there and blushed a fiery red as his fellow first years laughed at his gullibility, then his blush got worse as Fred and George sat down on the other side of Seamus and Dean with their dreadlocked friend Lee Jordan with them.

"What's so funny, ickle firsties?" Fred asked, but the first years were laughing too much to answer.

"Are they picking on you, ickle Ronniekins?" George asked, reaching across the table to ruffle Ron's hair, and his younger brother ducked out of reach with a glare.

"Gerroff, George." He grumbled, his blush fading as his fellow classmates managed to stop laughing, and Lee Jordan leant past Fred to look down the table at the 11 year olds.

"So who pranked Ron, then?" he asked curiously, and he and the Weasley twins blinked in surprise as everyone pointed at Harry. The bespectacled boy didn't look up, although a smile was playing around his mouth as he drowned his second piece of toast in marmalade. Fred and George exchanged a speculative glance with each other and Lee, then Fred leant on one elbow half across Dean and fixed Harry with a beady glare.

"What did you do, Harry Potter?" he asked sternly, and Harry blinked wide green eyes at him innocently.

"Oh, nothing much." He said modestly, and Dean snorted as he shoved Fred's elbow away from his plate of sausage and eggs.

"He just convinced Ron he'd tied him to the bench without him noticing." The coloured muggle-born said cheerfully as Fred's elbow slipped off the table and he caught himself with a yip. "And the idiot fell for it and ducked down to look." Sniggers broke out amongst the first years again as Ron's fading blush returned full force, and the three third years laughed.

"Nice one, Harry." George said cheerfully. "Although admittedly our Ronniekins isn't the hardest person to fool." The gangly 13 year old added as a qualifier. Fred snorted.

"Nope. Ron's a bit gullible, aren'tcha bro?" he reached round Dean's back to slap Ron on the back of the head gently, and his younger brother glared at him.

"Pack it in." he growled, as Harry snorted.

"Ron'll be it for his minute, then?" the black-haired lad questioned, and the Weasleys looked at him blankly.

"Eh?" Lee said from past Fred, and Harry sighed.

"Muggle saying. There's one born every minute." He explained as Hermione and Dean nodded confirmation, and George shrugged.

"Well, that's Ron all right." Laughter broke out amongst the first years again as Ron glared at his older brother, and Percy stood up from his seat at the head of the table.

"Would you like to keep the noise down over there, please?" The tall prefect called sternly, and Fred shot to his feet to give a salute, quivering to attention mockingly.

"Sorry Perce." Called George, rolling his eyes as his twin smirked at their older brother and slouched back to his seat.

"Prat." Fred said softly, and the first years giggled nervously. The red head smirked at them. "Well he is. You will realise this as you get used to the idiot."

"Yeah, and unfortunately we're related to the berk." George said gloomily, filling his plate with sausage, egg, bacon and beans before tucking in hungrily.

"Can we go to flying yet?" Ron repeated impatiently, fidgeting on the bench, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No, Ron, it's too early. Why don't you go clean your teeth or something? That should take up a good half hour by the time you get to Gryffindor Tower and back, then it'll be almost time to go." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as Ron nodded and scrambled out over the bench.

"Good idea, Hermione. I'll go clean my teeth." He shot off at a fast walk, not daring to run as Snape was just coming up the Great Hall as he went down it, and the part of the Gryffindor table he left behind burst into merriment again as he disappeared out of the wide doorway.

"Oh, God, can we just shoot him?" Harry hiccupped around his giggles, tears running down his cheeks from laughing. "I can't take it any more, its too much."

"Gred, there is no way in hell we are ever letting Ron on the Quidditch team." George said, wiping his eyes. Fred shuddered.

"Can you imagine what he'd be like before each match?" the red head chuckled, shaking his head.

Snape sat down two seats away from Dumbledore, one of the few Professors left at the Head Table, and frowned at the merriment coming from one section of the Gryffindor table. He could see Potter's messy black hair in the middle of the section, but the boy didn't seem to be either the instigator or the butt of the merriment.

"What on earth are that lot making all that noise over?" he grumbled to Albus, who twinkled at him in the way that Snape found particularly irritating before 9 am in the morning.

"Mr Weasley Junior seems to be rather excited about the first year flying lesson this morning." The Headmaster said in amusement. Snape scanned the Gryffindor table but did not spot the youngest Weasley, and shrugged.

"I don't see him there." He stated as his plate filled with a hearty breakfast.

"No, he left just as you came into the hall. I get the impression the only reason he didn't run out of the hall was because you were walking up it." Dumbledore smiled into his beard as Snape shrugged.

"I didn't see him. But then I don't notice every student, only the troublemakers." He smiled wryly at Albus. "Mr Weasley Junior's twin brothers, for example." Albus chuckled.

"I think every teacher notices those two, Severus. Out of self-preservation, if nothing else!"


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with the Potterverse. Quite frankly, I wish I did, then I wouldn't be sitting at home on Incapacity Benefit worrying over money to pay the bills! 

Doing good on the updating, aren't I? Every Sunday, regular as clockwork! Darn, but I'm proud of that fact!!

This is where things start to get quite a bit different from cannon, so I hope you all like it!

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At 9 am the first year Gryffindors piled out from their seats at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and headed for the front doors of the school, seeing the Slytherins doing the same from the other side of the Hall. The two groups of first years headed for the grassy lawns just outside the Quidditch pitch in the grounds of the school, moving in two separate groups but keeping careful eyes on each other nonetheless.

They reached the grass just outside the Quidditch pitch to find a tall witch with striking yellow eyes waiting for them, two rows of battered school brooms laid out along the lawn before her.

"Good morning, class." She said as the Gryffindors and Slytherins reached her and clumped up nervously.

"Good morning Madame Hooch." Chorused the first years, and she smiled briefly at them.

"Don't be nervous. Everyone stand by a broom, with the broom on your left side." She waited whilst the children sorted themselves out, Slytherins on one side and Gryffindors on the other, then strode to the middle of the two rows.

"Hold your hand over the broom and say 'Up!'" She commanded. "If the broom responds, it will leap up into your hand, where you will hold it until I give further instructions."

Harry looked at Ron on his right, who was still vibrating with eagerness, then looked to his left and met Neville's frightened brown eyes with a nervous shrug. He held his left hand out above the broom and said "Up!", and staggered back a couple of paces in surprise as the broom shot up and smacked into the palm of his hand.

"Well done, Mr Potter!" Madame Hooch exclaimed, and Harry was surprised to see he was the first one to get the broom to his hand. Malfoy glared at Harry from his position up and shrieked "Up!" at the top of his lungs, furious at being upstaged by a Gryffindor. Harry couldn't restrain a snort of laughter as Malfoy's broom shot up and whacked him on the nose, and the blond lad glared at him as he caught his broom in his left hand and clapped his right hand over his luckily unbroken nose, tears of pain springing to his pale blue eyes.

"Shut it, Potter." Malfoy snarled, and Harry blinked at him innocently.

After 15 minutes of shouting "Up!", almost all the first years had a broom in their hands. Madame Hooch looked at the four children who hadn't managed it, Neville, Hermione, Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin and Lavender Brown from Gryffindor, and smiled at their worried faces sympathetically.

"Never mind. Some people just aren't confident on a broom. You may all sit the rest of this lesson out – you can either stay and watch and perhaps try again later if you feel more confident, or you can return to your Common Rooms until your next class." Millicent promptly trotted off towards the doors of the Castle, and Neville and Lavender departed not long after her. Hermione, still seething at the thought there was a lesson she couldn't do, elected to sit down out of the way and watch the rest of the lesson on the off chance she might feel braver later on.

The rest of the class followed Madame Hooch's instructions about mounting the brooms, and to Ron and Harry's delight she told Malfoy off for doing it all wrong. This time Harry managed to hide his smile, although Ron wasn't so intelligent and got a filthy look from the blond Slytherin before Malfoy ignored Madame Hooch's instructions and shot up into the air, showing off for his fellow Slytherins. Hermione tutted loudly from behind the Gryffindors, and Malfoy scowled down at her from his lofty height before tilting his broom down at her threateningly. At that sight Harry was on his broom and up in the air before he could even think about it, instinctively bringing his broom to a hover between Malfoy and his friend. He was surprised by the look on Malfoy's face as he glared at the Slytherin, and even more startled secretly by how easy flying a broom seemed to be.

"Don't you dare try anything on my mates, Malfoy." Harry threatened as Madame Hooch yelled at both of them to come down this instant, and Malfoy sneered at him.

"What's the matter, Potter? Scared I might hurt your little girlfriend?"

"No, more scared you'll hit the floor head first and damage the grass. I'd say damage your face, but a head on collision with the ground'd probably be an improvement to an ugly mug like yours." Harry retorted, and Malfoy's pale face clenched into an ugly scowl as it reddened with fury and embarrassment at the titters from the Gryffindors below. He leant forward on the broom and shot straight at Harry, but the black-haired boy simply slid sideways in the air out of the way without even thinking about it.

"What's up, Malfoy, running away already?" he shouted after the blond boy as Malfoy struggled to get the tatty old school broom to stop. Malfoy managed to stop the broom and turned in mid-air to glare at Harry, who smirked back irritatingly. His eyebrows rose in surprise as Malfoy tried the same trick again, shooting towards Harry on a collision course as fast as he could go. This time Harry pulled the nose of his broom up and rose out of the way, kicking Malfoy's shoulder with a foot as the blond shot past underneath him. Malfoy squawked in alarm as he lost his balance and spun round in the air until he was hanging underneath his broom, unable to stop it, and Harry heaved a sigh before pulling his broom over and shooting off after the helpless Slytherin, feeling more than a bit guilty for causing the blond boy to lose control. He arrowed across the lawns towards the castle walls after Malfoy, who was desperately trying to get on top of his broom again as it seemed to be angling upwards. Harry caught up and got underneath the squealing Slytherin, looking up at Malfoy's terrified face.

"Drop, I'll catch you!" Harry shouted up at Malfoy, who snorted.

"Yeah right! Sure you will Potter!"

"Well, its either trust me or slam headfirst into the castle wall, you idiot. Now let go!" Malfoy looked ahead and shrieked as he saw the castle walls 20 feet away and closing fast, and obediently let go of his death grip on the broom. Harry manoeuvred underneath the falling Slytherin desperately, and was almost jounced off the broom himself as Malfoy landed stomach-down across the handle in front of Harry's grip. He grabbed the Slytherin's robes with his right hand as Malfoy squawled and started to slide off the broom, and headed hastily for the ground in a wide curve back towards the class as Malfoy's school broom was heard clattering into the stone walls of the castle.

"I'm falling off!" Malfoy kept squealing, his eyes screwed shut, and Harry snorted.

"If you don't stop squealing like a stuck pig I'll **let** you fall off, you idiot. Shut up and let me steer this thing."

"It's your fault, Potter!" Malfoy snarled, although he did shut up with the squealing.

"Well you started it. You were about to dive bomb Hermione, weren't you?" Harry grunted back, finding it difficult to fly while holding Malfoy onto the broom by the back of his robes. He gulped when he saw Madame Hooch running towards him, a furious look on her face, and as they were only three feet above the ground let Malfoy go.

"We're in trouble now." Harry moaned as Malfoy shrieked and slid off the broom, landing with a thud on his butt on the grass. Harry stopped beside him and slid off the broom hastily, clutching it like a security blanket as Madame Hooch bore down on them like an avenging angel. The tall teacher stopped before the two first years as Malfoy got to his feet shakily and put her hands on her hips, glaring down at the nervous students with flashing yellow eyes.

"**What** did you both think you were doing?" She demanded rhetorically, not giving either of them chance to answer. "You, Mr Malfoy, were just showing off for your classmates. And you, Mr Potter, were sinking to his level!"

"Yes, P'fessor. Sorry P'fessor." Harry just agreed with her, realising he would probably get into more trouble if he argued, but Malfoy was opening and closing his mouth like a landed fish as his pale face flushed red angrily. Madame Hooch glared at the Slytherin forbiddingly, and Malfoy seemed to realise he was better off not talking for the moment.

"Fifteen points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor for sheer recklessness. And I will be speaking to both your Heads of Houses about this behaviour." Madame Hooch said sternly, but Harry could have sworn he caught the ghost of a wink in his direction as she turned away.

"Class dismissed." She barked, and started collecting the brooms as the first years headed back for the castle.

"Oh, God, I'm gonna get expelled." Harry moaned to Ron as Hermione fell in on his other side. "One week and I'm in trouble already."

"I dunno why, Harry, that was amazing flying considering you'd never been on a broom before." Ron said, still stunned. Harry shrugged.

"Yes, thanks Harry. I just know Malfoy was going to do something horrible to me." Hermione said gratefully, and Harry shrugged again.

"Friends stick up for each other, don't they?" His lips curved in a wicked smile. "You should have seen his face when he dropped and I caught him. Worth almost any trouble I get into just for that look of sheer, pants-wetting terror."

"So why did you go after him?" Seamus asked from behind the trio. Harry shrugged. "I did sort of knock him off balance. I sort of kicked him on the shoulder when he flew underneath me, so it was only fair I caught him I guess."

"He wouldna have done the same for you." Seamus stated bluntly, and Harry grunted.

"So? Doesn't mean I should sink to his level, does it? Gryffindors're s'posed to be better than Slytherins, aren't we?"

"Hah, guess you're right." Seamus said thoughtfully, then prodded Harry in the back. "So how did Malfoy look when ye caught him, agin?" The Gryffindors all broke into laughter again as they trailed across the lawns back to the castle, now the Slytherins were all safely out of earshot on their way to Herbology.

Harry was accosted by Professor McGonagall on his way into the Great Hall that lunchtime, and looked up at his stern Head of House with a sinking feeling in his stomach as the tall woman stood in front of him.

"Would you rather have your lunch before or after your telling off, Mr Potter?" McGonagall asked with a faint smile, seeing the pallor taking over Harry's small face.

"Um, before, please. Not like I'll be able to eat anything if I'm waitin' for a tellin' off." Harry managed faintly as Ron and Neville left him with sympathetic pats on the back. Hermione lurked anxiously until McGonagall sent her on her way with a sharp look and a curt "I am not going to **eat** him, Miss Granger!"

"See you later, Harry." Hermione said faintly. "And thanks again." Harry nodded weakly and trotted obediently out of the Great Hall after Professor McGonagall, his stomach in knots with fearful anticipation.

'_I'm going to get expelled, I just know it!'_ he thought helplessly as he trailed behind his fast-moving Head of House.

Minerva turned after realising Harry's footsteps were getting fainter, and frowned when she saw the small first year trailing behind her. He gulped and broke into a run to catch her up as she stopped to wait for him, her arms folded sternly, and she frowned as she heard his wheezing when he caught her up.

"Was I going too fast, Harry?" she asked in mild concern as he stopped next to her, and his shoulders moved in his habitual small shrug.

"A bit, P'fessor. My legs're too short to keep up with you." He admitted faintly, out of breath.

"Mmmphm." McGonagall frowned down at him. "And it is Pro-fess-or, Harry, not P'fessor."

"I know, ma'am. I just have trouble saying it in full."

"Well try, Mr Potter, try. Now try and keep up, okay?" She set off down the corridor in a swirl of robes, making a point of walking slower this time, and heard Harry's small footsteps fall in behind her again.

Harry frowned as McGonagall opened the door of her office 5 minutes later and ushered him in, only for him to see a tall sixth year boy in Gryffindor robes waiting there already. The tall sandy-haired lad looked down at Harry with raised eyebrows, then looked up at McGonagall as she pushed Harry further into the room with a hand between his shoulder blades so she could close the door behind her.

"Um, you wanted me, Professor McGonagall?" the tall lad said with a faint Scottish accent. McGonagall swept round to sit at her desk as the older lad sat down in his chair again, leaving Harry hovering nervously in the middle of the floor.

"Yes, Oliver, I did. Oh, sit down Harry, neither of us bite!" she said to Harry with a small smile. Harry managed a wan smile back and subsided onto the edge of the nearest seat, his hands twisting in the lap of his robes nervously as he watched his Head of House and the older Gryffindor student.

"I think I've found us a new Seeker, Oliver." McGonagall leant forwards across her desk excitedly as Oliver's eyes widened and he flicked a glance at Harry quizzically. "Yes, Oliver, I mean Harry here. He had his first flying lesson today, and I had Madame Hooch corner me not long after it enthusing about the fact he caught Mr Malfoy from a fast-moving, out of control broomstick a good 50 feet above the ground!" Harry gulped at realising how high up he had been when he caught Malfoy – he hadn't really been paying attention to anything except catching the idiotic Slytherin at the time. Oliver gaped at Harry in impressed surprise, then sprang to his feet in an energetic bounce to prowl around the wary first year and study him thoughtfully. Harry hunched down in the chair nervously, doing his best to keep an eye on the prowling 15 year old, as McGonagall watched hopefully.

"Well he's got the build for a Seeker, Professor." Oliver said, coming to a halt in front of Harry after 10 minutes. "I'm Oliver Wood, by the way. Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Harry Potter." Harry said faintly, and Oliver smiled.

"Aye? Runs in your blood, then." Harry blinked up at him blankly, and the older lad's eyebrows shot up at the blank look on the first year's face. "Did ye not know your Da was Gryffindor Seeker when he was here?" he asked in surprise, and Harry shook his head.

"Long story." He mumbled, looking down at his still-twisting hands. "Don't even know how to play Quidditch. Raised by muggles." He continued, and glanced up through his shaggy black fringe to see Oliver Wood shrug.

"Dinna worry about that. We can teach ye Quidditch easily enough – especially with Fred and George on the team." Harry perked up at that.

"Oh are they on the team? That's good, I like Fred'n'George." Wood's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.

"Ye know them?"

"Their brother Ron's in my year, and they helped me onto the Express with my trunk."

"They talk to him quite a lot, as well." McGonagall chipped in, and Wood grunted in surprise.

"Blimey, Harry, you're honoured."

"Yeah, so people keep telling me. They don't seem that bad."

"You've only known them a week, Harry." McGonagall said gloomily. "Wait until you've put up with the Terrible Twosome for over a year, you'll soon change your tune."

Harry managed a faint chuckle, which was promptly lost in the rumble of his empty stomach. McGonagall smiled and rose.

"Well, Wood, what do you think?"

"I'll give him a tryout, Professor, if nothing else. We certainly need a new seeker now the last one has graduated, so it's worth a try. 7 pm Thursday night on the Quidditch pitch, Harry?" he looked down at the small 11 year old as Harry slid off the chair, and Harry nodded.

"Okay. I'll try not to get any detentions for Thursday night." He said, and Wood glowered at him.

"Aye, see that ye don't."

"You haven't had any yet, have you Harry?" McGonagall asked in surprise, and Harry shook his head with his habitual shrug.

"No Pro-fess-or, not yet. Not expecting it to last, though." He said, making a point of saying Professor properly and glancing up through his fringe to see her smile at his effort.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, then. Now, off you go back to lunch before Ronald Weasley eats all the food." Harry's small face split in a wide smile at that, and he scuttled out the door.

"I'll see you on Thursday night, Professor, and let you know how it went." Oliver Wood said, leaving after him, and McGonagall nodded.

"See that you do, Oliver. It's about time Slytherin lost the cup, I think." The pair shared a smile then Wood left, striding down the corridor after Harry's receding figure. He soon caught the eleven year old up with his longer legs, and fell into step beside the hurrying first year. Harry's green eyes flicked a glance up at him nervously, and Wood smiled reassuringly at the nervous lad.

"Do ye not know anything about Quidditch, then?" he asked as he strode alongside the small boy. Harry shook his head, biting his lip nervously, and flinched as Oliver reached out to pat his shoulder reassuringly.

"Aye, well, don't worry about that. Ask Fred or George if you can borrow Quidditch Through The Ages from them for a bit. I leant it to one of them last term so they should still have it. That'll give ye a bit of the background of the game and a basic understanding of the rules. Our first match isnae for a month or so yet, so there's no need to worry just yet."

"O-okay." Harry said faintly, mentally cursing his instinctive flinches at sudden moves and hoping Wood hadn't noticed. That hope was soon dashed by the older student's next words, however.

"Jumpy little bugger, aren't ye?" Wood remarked, and Harry could feel his eyes on him as he shrugged, his shoulders hunching into his robes instinctively and his head drooping.

"Aye, well, never mind. I'll not quiz ye about it if ye don't want to talk." Oliver smiled at Harry as the small lad shot him a wide eyed glance of surprise.

"I know what it's like to have people hasslin' ye to talk, Harry. If ye need to talk about it any time I'm here for ye, okay? Us Quidditch players have to stick together." Harry nodded silently, startled that anyone would care, and trailed after Wood into the Great Hall.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** As usual, I don't own it, I wish I did because then I wouldn't be so skint!

Another week, another chapter. Getting good at this, aren't I? Hope you all like it - any reviews gratefully read and even mostly responded to! So long as the review makes sense, anyway :)

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"Harry?" Ron hissed as Harry plopped down on the bench opposite him and reached for food hungrily, his stomach rumbling again. Ron stood up briefly to peer down the table at the older students, then sat down as Neville tugged his sleeve and stared at the small black-haired boy loading his plate with sausages and a big pile of creamy mashed potatoes opposite.

"What were you doing coming back in with Oliver Wood?" Ron asked curiously. Harry swallowed a mouthful of mashed potato and shrugged at the red head.

"Got Quidditch tryout on Thursday night." He mumbled, and shovelled a pile of sausage and mash into his mouth hungrily as Ron's and Neville's mouths dropped open.

"No way!" Ron exclaimed in amazement. "Really?" Harry nodded, his mouth full, and Ron gaped at him. "Wow Harry that's really cool! First years never get onto the team!" Harry shrugged.

"I'm not on the team yet. It's just a tryout, it's not guaranteed I'll get onto the team."

"I wish I could get onto the team." Ron said wistfully, pushing his empty plate to one side and propping his chin on his hands. "Although I hate to think what Fred and George'd do to me if I dared even go for tryouts."

"If you go as mental as you were this morning before every Quidditch match, Ron, you wouldn't even make it to tryouts." Neville said cheerfully, mopping up the last of his egg yolk with a chunk of bread. Harry giggled round a mouthful of mash, and had to take a hasty gulp of pumpkin juice to stop himself choking as the other Gryffindor first years laughed as well and Ron blushed a vivid red. Dean thumped Harry on the back to stop the green eyed boy choking on the mash, and the conversation turned to that afternoon's classes.

Before Harry knew it Thursday night had arrived and he was hastily bolting his dinner in the Great Hall after classes. Ron kept popping his head up to peer down the table at the fifth year students, looking for Oliver Wood, and Harry glared at him.

"Will you stop that? You're like a jack-in-the-box!" he grumbled at the tall red head. Nerves were knotting his stomach up again, but he was forcing himself to eat something just to avoid a lecture from Hermione. The bushy haired girl was sitting opposite him, between Ron and Neville, and glaring at him if he stopped eating. She had taken Professor McGonagall's words to heart over the last week and had decided it was her duty to make sure Harry ate enough. To be honest it was starting to get on Harry's nerves, but he didn't have the heart to snap at her for her fussing. It gave him a warm feeling deep inside that somebody cared enough to fuss, even if it was only one of his classmates rather than an adult it was still nice to have somebody care about him at all.

"Hey, Harry," Fred said from behind the small 11 year old suddenly, making Harry jump in surprise.

"You all ready, mate?" George chimed in, appearing next to his twin. Harry twisted around to see the tall twins behind him, side by side as usual, and pushed his plate away in relief. He was about to scramble off the bench when the twins abruptly grabbed a bicep each and lifted him over the benches, ignoring his yelp of protest as they swung him out over the heads of his fellow first years and lowered him to the floor between them, not however letting go of his arms.

"See you later, guys." Harry said over his shoulder to his fellow first years as he was frog-marched away between the Weasley twins, and Seamus and Dean, who he had been sitting between, waved goodbye.

"Will you two get off me?" Harry demanded as Fred and George marched him down the Great Hall, causing some smothered smiles from people who saw the tall redhaired twins looming on either side of the miniscule black-haired boy. "I can walk, you know."

"Ah, but Harry,"

"We don't want you changing your mind,"

"And legging it for parts unknown,"

"Now do we?" the twins said in their usual tennis match talking style. Harry grunted and yanked his arms free.

"I'm not going to." He grunted, straightening his school robes as he got free and trotted between the two red heads. "Don't even know if I'm going to be any good, so what's the point of legging it now? Might as well find out how crap I am, first." Fred and George slowed their long-legged pace slightly to allow him to keep up, as George looked down at him with a mock scowl.

"I don't know, Potter,"

"Where did you get such low self-esteem?" Fred finished cheerfully, and Harry snorted mockingly.

"Years of practice, mate, years of practice." He retorted, and the twins grinned at each other over his head.

"Well what do you know, Gred," George said happily,

"An ickle firstie who isn't scared of us." Fred completed, and Harry snorted again.

"You two aren't scary. Annoying, yes, with the twin talk thing, but not scary. Compared to Dudders and his gang, you two are a walk in the park." He said, trotting to keep up with them. "And as for Uncle Vernon, you two don't even come close." He fell silent then, saving his breath for keeping up with the tall red heads as they passed through the main doors of the castle and swung off to the right, towards the Quidditch pitch in the distance.

"Evening, Potter." Oliver Wood greeted him as Harry trotted between George and Fred through the arch onto the Quidditch pitch. Harry waved a hand vaguely in greeting as he stopped, before bracing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Wood regarded the wheezing 11 year old with raised eyebrows as Harry got his breath back and straightened stiffly, pushing sweaty black hair out of his eyes.

"Ye okay?" Oliver Wood asked in mild concern, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Just trying to keep up with Long and Lanky here on the way down." He said, waving a hand at Fred and George who shrugged at Oliver's glare.

"Ah, well, just ignore 'em. Did ye borrow Quidditch Through The Ages from them?" Wood asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Some of it even made sense." He said, and the older boys all chuckled.

"Must be a bit confusing from a muggle background." Wood admitted, and Harry shrugged.

"Ron helped explain some of it." He said, and Fred and George exchanged surprised looks.

"What, Ronniekins was actually helpful?" Fred asked in surprise, and Harry nodded.

"Not so much on the rules, but he's good at strategy. He must be, to beat the crap out of everyone at wizard chess all the time like he does."

"Yeah, suppose you're right, Harry." The twins exchanged thoughtful glances, and Harry eyed them suspiciously before Wood handed him a school broomstick.

"Right, then, Potter, get yourself aloft and we'll see how good ye are with the Snitch. That's what we're here for, after all." The tall fifth year looked up at the sky thoughtfully. "Reckon we've got maybe half an hour before it's too dark to try with the snitch, so let's see how you do."

"What, on a school broom, Wood?" Fred protested as Harry swung his leg over the broom obediently.

"Well if he can catch it on a school broom he's definitely in. Then we can think about getting him a proper broom of his own before the first match." Wood explained logically. Harry, hovering about ten feet off the ground now, frowned down at the older boys.

"I can buy my own broom if I make the team, thanks. I've got money, you know."

"Oh yeah? Loaded, are ya?" Fred jumped onto his own Cleansweep and zoomed up to hover next to Harry, swinging a small thick bat in his right hand. Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. Not sure how wizard money translates into muggle, but I'm not poor."

"So why don't you buy yourself some proper home clothes, then?" George teased, appearing on Harry's other side, and the small boy shrugged.

"Dunno any shops around here, do I? And if I go home in summer with clothes that fit, my relatives'll realise I've got money." He grimaced at the thought, and shrugged. "Lets just get on with it, I've got three lots of homework to do yet." He pulled the nose of his broom up and arrowed further up into the air, leaving the Weasley twins below him, and slowed to a hover as Wood shouted up,

"Right, you three, I'm letting the Snitch out!" Harry looked down in time to see a tiny streak of light zip out from Wood's opened fist before the fifth year mounted his own broom and shot up into the sky. Harry blinked as a tiny gold ball with silver wings abruptly hovered in front of his face before zipping off, and he instinctively pulled his broom over to chase after it. Fred Weasley yipped in surprise as Harry shot past him, the wind from his passing ruffling Fred's red hair, and the three older boys spun on their brooms to watch Harry tearing down the Quidditch pitch at a rapid speed.

"Well he's certainly got the seeker's posture." George announced, seeing Harry lying almost flat to the handle of the school broom as he hurtled around the edge of the Quidditch pitch, his green eyes fixed on a point in front of him. The older lads hovered in mid-air well out of the way as Harry chased the snitch around the Quidditch pitch until he got close enough to stretch his right hand out and just get his fingertips on the tiny golden ball. He clutched it in his hand and pulled the nose of the broom up with his left hand, rising gently up to level with the older boys.

"Nice job, Potter." Wood congratulated him. "Now let it go and see if you can do it again." Harry shrugged and obliged, opening his fist to release the Snitch obediently.

Half an hour later Harry caught the Snitch for the fourth time and followed Wood's gestured instructions to land. He jumped off his broom a couple of feet above the ground as Fred knocked the last Bludger into George's arms and the twins descended to the ground as well. Oliver was already down, and took the Snitch from Harry's grasp with a ruffle of the first year's messy black hair.

"Well, lads, what do you think?" Wood asked Fred and George after they had locked the balls back into the case, much to the disgust of the last Bludger. Fred and George looked down at Harry's hopeful little face from their greater height and grinned evilly in unison.

"We reckon,"

"He'll do fine,"

"Oliver, so long as,"

"He doesn't mind Katie Angela and Alicia,"

"Mothering the hell out of him." They said in twin talk, and Oliver snorted with laughter as Harry's face dropped in dismay.

"Oh no, that won't happen will it?" he asked piteously. Fred and George laughed as Oliver shook his head.

"I'll try and keep them off you, Harry, okay?" he chuckled, and Harry glowered up at him.

"Yeah, please do, else I'll quit." He grumbled. "I like flying and Quidditch fine, but not enough to be mothered for it. Ack." He shuddered at the thought, pushing his sweaty black fringe back out of his eyes for the umpteenth time, and the older boys laughed at the grimace of disgust on his expressive face.

"Come on, you lot. Let's get these balls put back in the storeroom and get this knackered firstie back to his dorm. It's almost time for his curfew, isn't it." Wood said, and the Weasley twins hoisted the ball box between them as Harry shouldered his school broom. The small black haired boy trotted after the older lads as they put the Quidditch supplies away, propping Harry's borrowed school broom in the broom area before locking the door behind them and heading back to the school doors.

"Can you keep up?" Fred asked cheerfully of Harry as the first year trotted beside him. Harry nodded, saving his breath for keeping up with the long legged thirteen year olds and the tall fifteen year old, and dodged Fred's slap to his shoulder easily.

"Well?" Ron pounced on Harry the minute the green eyed boy climbed through the portrait hole ahead of Fred and George 20 minutes later. Wood had peeled off down a corridor to talk to Professor McGonagall, leaving the Weasley twins to make sure Harry made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room without getting either lost or into trouble.

"Relax, Ronniekins," Fred said, climbing through the hole after Harry with George on his heels.

"He's in. Seeker." George said, and Neville let out a whoop of joy and grabbed Harry in a hug of congratulations. Ron managed a smile, feeling more than a bit jealous, as the three girls in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all Chasers, looked over at the racket.

Fred extracted Harry from Neville's hug and pushed the small first year over to the trio of older girls in a group of armchairs near the fire, George close behind him.

"Hey girls. Meet the new Gryffindor Seeker." Fred said cheerfully, ignoring the trenches Harry's heels were digging into the carpet and shoving the first year forwards remorselessly.

"Hey Harry." Alicia said cheerfully as Harry was shoved in front of her chair, blushing a painful red. He wriggled his way out of Fred's clutches and glared up at the tall twin, and Katie and Angela chuckled.

"Well at least he's not scared of you two terrors." Katie said approvingly, and Fred and George shrugged.

"Apparently we don't even come close to Dudders, whoever he is." George admitted sadly, and Katie raised enquiring eyebrows at Harry.

"My cousin. He's an asshole." Harry muttered, and the rest of the Quidditch players laughed.

"Well then, no wonder you're not bothered by these two idiots." Angela said cheerfully, and Harry shrugged.

"Nah. They ain't scary, just annoying." He said bluntly, ignoring the splutters of mock outrage from Fred and George, and Katie smiled.

"You've got that right. Anyway, welcome to the team, Harry."

"Thanks." Harry managed a shy smile and ducked away back to his friends on the other side of the Common Room, dodging under George's arm. The rest of the Quidditch team watched as he dodged across the Common Room and collapsed into an armchair next to the couch Neville and Hermione were occupying.

"Congratulations, Harry." Hermione said cheerfully as Harry flopped into the armchair next to her. Harry smiled at her, glad the tryouts were over at last, and heaved a sigh.

"Glad that's over with. God, I'm knackered." He complained, curling up in the large squishy armchair and resting his head on the back tiredly.

"Why don't you go up to bed, then?" Hermione said logically, and Harry shook his head.

"Too wound up to sleep, at the mo. Need to get my brain to switch off first, else I'll be lying awake all night." He wrapped his arms around his knees as he hunched in the armchair, blinking tiredly at Neville and Hermione as the pair sat on the couch. "What you two doing?" he asked, seeing the parchment unrolled on Hermione's lap.

"Hermione's checking my History of Magic essay for me." Neville said, nudging the bushy-haired girl gratefully. Hermione shrugged.

"Someone needs to." She said absently. "Besides, what are friends for?" She shot Harry a look through her hair, not lifting her head. "Have you done your essay for Binns, Harry?" she asked sternly, and the black haired lad rolled his eyes.

"Yes, 'Mione. Did it Tuesday night, I think. I've got Transfiguration, Potions and Astronomy left to do, but none of 'em are due til Monday at the earliest. So there." He poked his tongue out at the intelligent girl, who snorted with laughter.

"If the wind changes you'll be stuck like that." She giggled, and Neville laughed.

"Probably be an improvement." He chortled, and Harry spluttered.

"'Ey, stop pickin' on me!" he protested, grinning himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** As usual, I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with it. I'm just rewriting it!

**_MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!_**

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Now Harry had Quidditch practice twice a week, as well as all his assignments from his classes, it hardly seemed like any time had passed before it was October.

Harry was curled up in an armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room two weeks after his tryouts for the Quidditch team, Ron hanging over the back of the chair and the pair of them deeply involved in the latest issue of 'Which Broomstick?'. Gryffindor's first Quidditch match – against Slytherin of all people – was in a month so Harry was seriously starting to consider which broom he ought to buy. Unfortunately there were so many different types to choose from he was completely bewildered, hence the fact that Ron Weasley, Quidditch-obsessed as he was, was hanging over the back of his armchair.

"Hey, Ronniekins," Fred popped up on Ron's left, making his little brother jump.

"Whatcha doin?" George asked, popping up on Ron's right. Then the twins realised someone was in the armchair Ron was balanced on the back of.

"Hey Harry." Fred said,

"Didn't see you there."

"What you two ickle firsties up to then?" Harry shrugged, turning the page of the magazine without looking up.

"Trying to decide which broom I ought to buy." He said, frowning thoughtfully at the blurb on the Nimbus 2000. "I've got permission off McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore to get a broom, even though I'm still a first year, but I can't decide which one to get." He tipped his head back to blink tired green eyes up at the tall twins, it being past 9 pm on Wednesday evening. "What do you two think? Ron reckons I should get a Cleansweep or maybe the new Nimbus." Ron nodded fervently, practically drooling over the Nimbus 2000, as his older twin brothers exchanged thoughtful looks. They leant over the back of the chair as well, one on either side of Ron.

"Personally, Harry, I'd go for the Nimbus." George said seriously after 15 minutes of thought and silent communication with his twin. Fred nodded in agreement.

"Cleansweeps are good, Harry, but the new Nimbus really kicks butt. We've got old Cleansweeps, and they're pretty good but getting a bit slow now. It doesn't really matter so much for us, we're just Beaters, but as Seeker you're going to need the fastest broom you can get if you want to have half a chance." Fred's arm came past Harry's shoulder to prod at the page showing the moving picture of the new Nimbus 2000 whizzing across the page, a grinning wizard on the back of it. Harry was so tired he didn't even flinch, which was an improvement on his behaviour of a month ago.

"Right, then, the Nimbus 2000 will do for me." He said tiredly, dropping the magazine to his lap and pushing his glasses up on his forehead to rub his tired eyes. "I'll fill the order form in tomorrow and send it off with Hedwig before class." He uncurled from the chair stiffly and twisted round to hand Ron his magazine back.

"Thanks for the magazine and the help, Ron." Ron took the magazine and rolled it up in his sweaty paw, jumping off the back of the armchair to land between his older twin brothers as Harry slid off the seat and stretched stiffly.

"No problem, Harry. You off to bed?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah. I'm knackered." He rubbed his eyes again with a finger stuck up behind the lens of his glasses, and headed for the stairs to the boys' dorms as Ron fell in beside him.

"Night, you two." George said cheerfully.

"Sleep tight." Fred added, and Ron grinned back at his older brothers as Harry waved a hand vaguely in good-night. He stumbled up the steep stairs to the first year dorm, Ron helping him along with an occasional gentle shove in the back and yawning cavernously.

"You all right, Harry?" Neville asked sleepily as the last two Gryffindor first year boys entered the dorm. Harry nodded wearily, his face splitting in a cavernous yawn as he collapsed onto the trunk at the foot of his bed to pull his shoes off. He blinked tiredly at Neville as the freckled boy pushed up onto his elbow in his bed, and yawned again.

"Choose a broom?" Neville asked softly, trying to avoid waking Seamus and Dean. Harry nodded as Ron changed into his pyjamas and headed for the bathrooms to clean his teeth.

"Nimbus 2000." He said, pulling his pyjamas on and climbing into his nice cosy four poster bed. He pulled his glasses off and placed them on his bedside table. "Gonna send off for it tomorrow after breakfast. Night, Neville."

"Night Harry." Neville laid down again as Harry burrowed deep under his covers and closed his eyes, falling asleep between one breath and the next.

Harry did manage to get up in time for breakfast, in fact he was one of the first boys in his dorm up and dressed so decided he would nip to the Owlery first rather than have to rush between breakfast and class. He had pulled the order form out of Ron's copy of 'Which Broomstick?' and plopped down at a table in the Common Room to fill it in carefully with his quill. He looked up as Neville sat down next to him, and smiled at the round-faced boy.

"Hey, Neville. How do I go about paying for something by mail order?" he asked curiously, having completed the rest of the form. Neville leant over to look at the form, and shrugged.

"That's easy. Have you got your Gringotts key? All the information is on that, or it should be."

"Oh, cool." Harry fished it out of his pocket where he had placed it that morning, and carefully copied the information out into the form. "D'you think I ought to get McGonagall to sign the form? With me being a kid and all?"

"Well some adult has to. You're not old enough to have control over your own money yet, you must have a Trust Fund Manager. Do you know who it is?" Harry shook his head.

"Not the foggiest."

"Hmm. Better ask Professor McGonagall at breakfast, then. She might know, or at least be able to find out. The only other way is for someone to go to Diagon Alley and get it for you, if you gave them permission to get the money from your Vault at Gringotts." Neville shrugged.

"I'll ask McGonagall. God only knows when someone'll be going to Diagon Alley who'd be willing to get my broom for me." Harry smiled at a random thought. "Can you image Snape's face if I asked him to buy me a broomstick? He'd have kittens!" Neville laughed.

"Yeah, assuming he even knows Quality Quidditch Supplies exists!" The two boys got up and headed for the Great Hall, giggling over the thought of asking random teachers to collect a broomstick for Harry.

Minerva McGonagall was seated on her own at the Head Table, it being earlier than most teachers and students preferred for breakfast, when she saw Harry and Neville enter the Great Hall together and head for the Gryffindor tables. She smiled to herself as she saw the two boys laughing and shoving each other, glad that both the shy, clumsy Neville and wary Harry had found a friend. Her eyebrows raised as Neville spotted her at the Head Table and nudged Harry, who looked up at her and shrugged. He left Neville to make his own way to the Gryffindor tables and headed straight for her, which surprised her slightly until she realised he had an order form from Quality Quidditch Supplies clutched in his right hand.

"Chosen a broom, Harry?" she asked as the small black haired lad fetched up on the other side of the table from her, and he nodded nervously.

"Yes Professor. Only I've filled the form in, but I'm not sure how to go about paying for the broom? Could you help, please?" He unrolled the order form on the table before her, upside down to himself so she could read it, and McGonagall pushed her plate to one side to peruse the form carefully.

"Looks fine to me." She said. "You need to get your Trust Fund Manager to sign the authorisation, and luckily I know who that is as I am assuming you don't?" Harry shook his head, wide green eyes fixed on her, and she smiled at him.

"Lucky for you, Mr Potter, I am your Trust Fund Manager. Your parents put in their Wills that I was to look after your money for you until you became of age or were emancipated. That means recorded as of age earlier than the normal age of 17." She explained, seeing the blank look in Harry's eyes. Harry's face lit up in his sweet smile as she pulled a quill out of her robe and signed the relevant place on the form, before pushing it back to him.

"Thanks, Professor." Harry took the form, then hesitated on one foot on the far side of the table. "If you were put in my mum and dad's wills, did that mean you knew them?" he asked tentatively, and McGonagall smiled at him.

"I did indeed, Harry. I taught both your parents and your godfather Sirius when they were students at Hogwarts. They were all in Gryffindor, like you." She looked at his hopeful little face, and smiled again. "I don't know whether anyone has told you, but you look like your Dad. You have your mum's green eyes though, your dad's eyes were hazel. Now you had better go get some breakfast before you send that form off, hadn't you?"

"Yes Professor. And …. Thanks." Harry added shyly, before dashing back to Neville where the freckled lad sat at the Gryffindor table alone, and Minerva smiled wistfully. She pulled her plate back in front of herself and returned to her breakfast, just as Severus Snape swept round the back of the table and sat down next to her.

"What was that all about?" he asked curiously, watching Harry sit down next to Neville and reach for the food on the Gryffindor table.

"Harry needed my authority to buy his new broomstick." Minerva replied, sipping her cup of tea as she studied Harry thoughtfully, and Severus grunted.

"Are you his Trustee then? I thought it would be Dumbledore." He remarked in mild surprise, and Minerva shook her head.

"I think James wanted Dumbledore at first, but Lily insisted I became Trustee in the event of their deaths before Harry was 17." She arched her eyebrows at Snape, and the tall hook-nosed potions professor grunted again.

"At least Lily had some sense." He admitted. "Pity they didn't put in their Wills that you could raise Harry, then Dumbledore couldn't have dumped him on his muggle relatives." Minerva nodded in agreement, still more than a little ticked off with Dumbledore for doing that despite several objections from people who knew Lily and James as well as herself, but sighed.

"That would not have protected him, though. I loved Lily like a daughter, but we weren't related so the blood wards wouldn't have protected either Harry or me. And with Sirius being in Azkaban without a trial and Remus being unable by law to adopt children, there was really no one else." Severus, although he frowned at the mention of his hated enemy Sirius, grunted sceptically.

"Assuming the blood wards even exist, doesn't the person taking in the refugee have to actually give a damn about them?" he said softly, seeing Dumbledore sweeping the doorway and lowering his voice instinctively. Minerva frowned thoughtfully and gave a slight nod, her own blue eyes finding Dumbledore, and Snape snorted.

"Perhaps I will visit the Dursleys later on this year and see what state these so-called 'blood wards' are in, hmmm?" He arched an eyebrow at her sardonically, and turned back to his breakfast as Minerva winked at him and turned to greet Dumbledore.

"Ah, Minerva, Severus. Good morning." Dumbledore twinkled at them over his glasses as he sat down next to McGonagall, and Snape grunted a grouchy welcome.

"I see Mr Potter and Mr Longbottom are up inordinately early today." Dumbledore observed, nodding at the Gryffindor table where Harry and Neville were still the only two first year students, although a couple of fourth years were huddled at the far end of the table.

"Harry has chosen his broom, Albus." Minerva said cheerfully, seeing Harry's green eyes flick a glance at her and the Headmaster before he turned back to his giggling conversation with Neville. Dumbledore looked at her with raised white eyebrows, his bright blue eyes curious, and Minerva smiled at him.

"Now, Albus, you know I need to sign any forms for Harry. I am his Trustee, after all. He can hardly order the broom without my authority. He has ordered a Nimbus 2000, probably with the advice of the Weasley brothers." She finished, refilling her cup of tea. Albus 'hmmmm'd, steepling his fingers in front of his face and studying Harry's little face from across the Great Hall.

"A good choice. I wish that Lily and James had seen fit to make me Harry's Trustee as well as his Guardian." He twinkled at Minerva apologetically. "Not that I do not feel you are perfectly capable, my dear Minerva, but I worry that you have too much pressure on you with the running of this fine School already." Minerva snorted as Snape rolled his eyes, hidden behind the veil of his long black hair.

"I am hardly rushed off my feet by this one extra task, Albus. This is the first time Harry has asked to purchase anything since starting here. In fact, that reminds me, I must suggest he order some home clothes that actually fit rather than the tents he has been wearing. Do excuse me." She rose to her feet and swept off towards her Gryffindors, and Albus watched her go. Snape shot him a brief look through his curtain of black hair and turned his attention back to his breakfast thoughtfully.

"Harry?" Minerva sat down next to Neville on the bench opposite Harry, who blinked up at her curiously.

"Yes Professor?" he asked, swallowing his mouthful of scrambled egg hastily.

"Have you thought about ordering some home clothes that fit you, while you are here?" McGonagall asked softly, and Harry flushed a painful red and shrugged.

"Yes'm. But if I go home with clothes that fit proper Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia'll take them for Dudley." He mumbled, looking down at his plate.

"**Not** if I spell them so they look like the tents you are already wearing before you go home, they won't." Minerva said triumphantly. "Assuming we can't get you somewhere else, that is." Harry's green eyes looked up in surprise, and he smiled shyly.

"I would like to get some proper clothes, then, Professor."

"Well, come to my office this evening after class and I'll give you a catalogue from a wizard clothes store in Hogsmeade. Don't worry, they sell muggle clothes as well." She forestalled Harry's question with a smile. "A lot of the younger wizards wear muggle clothes around their homes these days, Harry, so the good shops have started to sell some. Easier to repair than robes when you children wreck your clothing playing in the dirt and Quidditch." She teased, and Neville and Harry managed weak giggles.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Yah, yah, the usual. I don't own it, I wish I did.

Anyway, Chapter 10 for all who are interested. It's about here where this little fanfic REALLY starts to deviate from cannon, so I hope it isn't too confusing for anyone!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story so far, and last, but not least, **HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!** Here's hoping we all have a happy, prosperous and above all **_healthy_** 2008 (Can tell I'm sick, can't ya?)!

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Harry's Nimbus 2000 was delivered by owl post on the Sunday morning. The black haired lad was giggling with Ron over some silly joke at breakfast when Hermione kicked him gently under the table, and he looked at her with a yip of surprise.

"What was that for?" he said in surprise, reaching down to rub his leg before he saw her head tilted up to the ceiling.

"I think that's your broomstick, Harry." The bushy haired girl said, and Harry followed her gaze to see Hedwig and two other owls swooping down towards him, a long parcel clutched in their talons. The three Gryffindors hastily cleared a space in the middle of the table, just as the owls landed the parcel in front of Harry. The two other owls took off, but Hedwig accepted a caress and a piece of bacon rind from Harry before hooting at him affectionately and taking off for the Owlery. Harry watched her out of sight then looked back down at the parcel wrapped in brown paper and string lying on the table in front of him.

"Well, go on, open it." Ron encouraged, as Fred and George popped up beside Hermione, attracted by the arrival of the parcel. Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson arrived next, also having seen the arrival of the parcel, and everyone watched in anticipation as Harry's shaking hands started pulling the paper off the parcel.

Sighs of admiration went up from the watching students as a beautiful, streamlined mahogany broomstick was unwrapped on the table. It's long streamlined handle gleamed in the sunlight from the enchanted ceiling, the writing 'Nimbus 2000' glinting golden on the upper handle as it lay on the table.

"Merlin's pants, it looks like its flying when it's just lying there." moaned Ron, practically drooling over the broomstick. Harry ran his hand down the smooth handle tentatively, and Fred and George whistled as the broom leapt up into his hand as soon as he touched it.

"I take it you will be out practicing on your new broom this morning, Mr Potter?" said a soft silky voice from behind Hermione and the Weasley twins, and the Gryffindors looked up to see Professor Snape standing behind their table and regarding the broom with what they could have sworn was admiration. Harry nodded nervously, and Snape managed a very faint, brief smile.

"A good choice of broom, Mr Potter. Although obviously I would prefer that Slytherin win the match." He added as a qualifier, and Katie and Angelina smiled.

"Just make sure you do your homework, and don't get carried away flying all day." Snape said sternly, and swept off down the Great Hall. Fred and George exchanged glances then looked down at Harry with mischievous grins.

"I swear, Harry," Fred began,

"That overgrown bat,"

"Actually seems to like you."

"Yeah, Harry, that's rather odd." Katie agreed, running her finger along the edge of the Nimbus admiringly. Fred and George nodded fervently as Harry shrugged.

"I'm not knocking it." He said, still fascinated by his new broom. "Although you wouldn't think so from Potions class."

"Ah, but he has to be strict in class, doesn't he. Doesn't want us all turning into Fred and George, after all." Hermione said with a sidelong glance at the Weasley twins. The tall 13 year olds let out yelps of protest, clutching their hearts in mock agony, and the other Gryffindors laughed at their theatrics.

"Well, to hell with breakfast, I'm off to the Quidditch pitch." Said Harry happily, the awe at his new broom fading enough for his excitement to surface. Hermione glared at him sternly, and he pulled a face at her.

"Oh, come on, Hermione, I've had three pieces of bacon **and** some scrambled eggs! I'll eat a big lunch, I promise!" He lifted his broom off the table and cuddled it to his chest possessively as Draco Malfoy sauntered past, curious but trying not to show it. Harry glared at the Slytherin, who sneered at him in return.

"Got your first new toy, Potter?" he sneered, envy glimmering in the depths of his grey eyes. Harry snorted mockingly.

"What if I have? It's still better than anything you've got, Malfoy." He retorted. "And bought with my own money instead of having to sponge off daddy, as well." He turned and raced down the hall, his Nimbus clutched in his hands possessively and the other Gryffindors close behind him, as Malfoy stood sputtering, temporarily lost for words.

McGonagall and Snape were standing just outside the doors to the Great Hall at the beginning of that lunchtime, discussing the Halloween festivities in low voices whilst watching the students boil towards the Great Hall and their lunches, when the Gryffindor Quidditch team together with Ron, Neville and Hermione came barging back into the Entrance Hall. The two teachers exchanged amused looks as they got out of the way of the doors, the gaggle of Gryffindor students coming towards them. Harry however stopped at the foot of the stairs up to the upper levels of the castle, and Snape snorted with amusement when he saw the boy's small hands stroking his new broomstick possessively.

"I'm going to go put this in the dorm." Harry told his friends, one foot on the stairs up.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Neville asked cheerfully, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"No, you're all right. I think I can find the Tower and back in one piece. Just save me some grub, okay?" He raced off up the stairs, taking them two at a time and his overlarge trainers slapping on the floor, and the rest of the group headed for the doors to the Great Hall.

"How did the practice go, Katie?" McGonagall asked as the tall blonde girl passed her, and Katie Bell smiled at her brightly.

"Brilliant, Professor. That Nimbus is fantastic, and Harry rides it like he was born on a broomstick." Minerva smiled at the attractive Gryffindor in shared enthusiasm, and Katie disappeared into the scrum of students.

"Harry's taking a while to get to the Tower and back." Hermione said worriedly 25 minutes later, leaning back to look past Seamus at the door to the Great Hall for the umpteenth time.

"Relax, Hermione." Ron said with a mouthful of potato, ignoring the girl's revolted look. The tall red head looked over at the door as he caught a movement in the corner of his eye, and Hermione grimaced as his mouth dropped open, revealing half-masticated food.

"Ron, that's gross." She scolded, then Harry plopped down next to her and she turned to look at him. A gasp escaped her throat at the horrible graze all down the left side of Harry's face, she grabbed his hand urgently causing him to flinch with a small squeak.

"Harry! What happened?" She demanded as Neville and Ron, seated across from her, gaped at Harry in shock. Harry shrugged and winced, his hand going to his left ribs instinctively.

"Someone pushed me down the stairs halfway between here and Gryffindor Tower." He said, wincing at he moved his jaw. The side of his face was reddened and scraped, and starting to swell and bruise around the side of his left eye. The left arm and lens of his glasses were also broken, and Hermione whipped out her wand with an impatient sigh.

"Reparo!" she said, and Harry blinked in gratitude as his glasses were fixed. "You really need to learn that spell, Harry." Hermione said, and the small boy shrugged.

"Did you see who did it?" Neville asked, leaning forwards over the table. Harry shook his head, reaching for a big pile of creamy mash and a couple of sausages, together with some diced carrots.

"No. One minute I was running towards the stairs outside Charms, the next someone shoved me in the middle of the back and I just went flying."

"Jesus, Harry, lucky you weren't seriously hurt." Ron said, horrified. Harry nodded, and started on his lunch.

"I'll go the Infirmary after lunch." He said, and Hermione snorted.

"You need to tell a teacher as well, Harry."

"What good'll that do? I didn't see who did it, did I?"

"No, but I bet I know who it was." Ron said darkly, leaning sideways to glare at the Slytherin table on the other side of the Hall. Harry shrugged, and winced again.

"Can't prove it, though, can I?" He applied himself to his food, glad his back was to the teachers sitting at the Head Table and hoping against hope that none of them had seen him sneak into the Hall. That hope was dashed half an hour later, just as he was finishing his treacle tart, by McGonagall saying his name behind his back.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry's shoulders hunched but he didn't turn, until Professor McGonagall cleared her throat sternly.

"I have already seen your injuries when you entered the Hall, Harry. You might as well turn around." She said sternly, and Harry's shoulders sagged as he twisted carefully, his ribs twinging.

"What happened?" McGonagall asked.

"Someone pushed me down the stairs outside Charms, Professor. But I didn't see who it was – they came from behind me." Harry said, and McGonagall frowned.

"That is totally unacceptable behaviour." She said angrily, and Harry blinked up at her before shrugging.

"No worse than primary school with Dudley, Professor." He smiled wanly up at her. "I'm okay, really. I'm going to see Madam Pomfrey after lunch, I promise."

"Hmmph. See that you do, Harry. I shall talk to the other teachers and see if we can find out who is behind this outrage." McGonagall swept away back to the Head Table and the remaining Professors sitting there in a swirl of tartan robes, and Harry snorted.

"Fat lot of good that'll do." He grumbled, turning back to the remnants of his treacle tart. He stood stiffly when he had finished it, and looked at his friends.

"I'm going to the Infirmary." He announced, climbing out over the bench. Hermione bounced up and announced "I'm coming with you, then." and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Okay, if you must."

"Safety in numbers and all that, Harry." Neville said, still finishing his dinner. "I'll meet you there after I've finished lunch." Harry heaved a long-suffering sigh and limped off out of the Great Hall, Hermione striding beside him with a fair amount of protectiveness.

"So, how come you didn't kill yourself falling down the stairs?" She asked halfway to the Hospital Wing. Harry snorted.

"Would you believe Filch caught me?" he said, and giggled at Hermione's stunned look. "Honest Injun, 'Mione. Well, he didn't so much catch me as I rolled into his legs – he was halfway up the Charms staircase when I was pushed. Nearly flattened Mrs Norris, I did, which he weren't too happy about." Hermione let out a horrified giggle, being rather fond of cats herself, and Harry smiled. "He caught me and picked me up, though, before he ran up the stairs to try and find who had pushed me down. Doubt he did, though. Should think most people round here can run faster than ol' Filch." The two first years giggled together at the thought of Filch being run circles around by a horde of students, and that thought amused them the rest of the way to the Infirmary. Harry pushed the door open reluctantly and stood back to let Hermione go first, and the girl swept past him with a regal nod. Harry sniggered and followed, almost bumping into Hermione where the girl stood looking around curiously at the Hospital Wing. She had not visited that part of Hogwarts previously, and as usual her curiosity was running rampant.

"Wow, quite a nice room for a Hospital." Hermione said approvingly, seeing the panoramic view from the tall windows, and the two first years jumped as they heard Madam Pomfrey's chuckle.

"Glad you approve, young Gryffindor." She said, sweeping down the room towards the two first years in her usual flurry of skirts and apron. She eyed Hermione quizzically.

"You do not seem to be in need of my services, however." Hermione shook her head, and dragged Harry forward by his sleeve from where he was lurking behind her.

"No, Ma'am. It's Harry who needs treatment." Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened at the lovely purple bruising starting to come up all down the left side of Harry's face, and she gestured him over to the nearest bed silently. Harry sighed and slouched forwards, hoisting himself up to sit on the edge of the bed as Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at the medicine cupboards at the far end of the room and said "Accio bruise cream." Hermione watched in fascination as a small jar came flying across the room into the Healer's hand, just missing Harry's head as the small boy ducked with a yip of surprise.

"It's not just bruises, Madam Pomfrey." Hermione said, leaning on the end of the bed as Harry pulled his glasses off with a resigned sigh. "I think he's hurt his ribs as well, he keeps flinching every time he shrugs."

"Tell tale." Harry grumbled, not meaning it, and at Madam Pomfrey's glare carefully removed his sweater and tatty old grey t-shirt.

Madam Pomfrey ran her wand over his chest from about six inches away, muttering a diagnostic spell under her breath, and the two first years blinked in fascination as a small red screen appeared in front of the Healer's face. It looked like a tiny hologram of a computer screen, and writing seemed to scroll up it as Madam Pomfrey studied it briefly. It disappeared as she muttered something else, and she nodded at Hermione in approval.

"Yes indeed, Miss Granger." She said, and smiled at Hermione's startled look. "Oh, come, child. I know who the smartest Gryffindor is – I do talk to the Professors occasionally you know." Hermione blushed a fiery red at the compliment, and Pomfrey patted her shoulder reassuringly. "You diagnosed your friend quite right – he has bruised ribs as well as a bruised face and I should think that left arm is a bit sore as well, isn't it Harry?" She said to the small boy, who sighed and nodded. Pomfrey smiled and summoned another jar out of her cupboards, putting her wand into her apron pocket before unscrewing the lid of the second jar and starting to apply the paste in it to Harry's ribs. The black haired boy squirmed, trying not to giggle but ticklish along his ribs, but he froze when Pomfrey glared at him.

He managed not to flinch away from the glare, but it was difficult not to and just to sit rigid until she had done. Mentally he knew she wasn't going to hurt him, but he had often seen just such a look in Aunt Petunia's eyes before she laid into him for doing something wrong or freakish, and his instinctive reaction was to run for cover. Out of sight with his aunt was usually, after about 15 minutes, out of mind, so often if Harry got far enough away fast enough he would escape whatever punishment Aunt Petunia had been about to dish out. He sat with his eyes screwed shut while she applied the paste to his ribs, left bicep and his face, but Hermione saw the look in Pomfrey's eyes and knew that the Healer had noticed Harry's instinctive reaction. The woman raised her eyebrows questioningly at Hermione, who shrugged and nodded, then there was a timid tap at the door and Neville poked his head round cautiously.

"Come in, Mr Longbottom." Pomfrey said, smoothing the last of the paste over the side of Harry's left arm and watching intently as it was absorbed into his skin. She closed that jar as Neville scuttled across the Infirmary, fetching up at the end of the bed next to Hermione.

"Right, Harry, you can put your t-shirt and jumper back on now." Pomfrey said, stepping back from the small boy. Harry's green eyes blinked open cautiously, he managed a wan smile for her as he relaxed and pulled his tatty, over-large t-shirt over his head carefully.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." His voice was muffled by the t-shirt as he spoke, then his head popped out the top and he stuck his arms into the sleeves before reaching for his jumper.

"You are welcome. What happened, anyway?" Poppy watched him pull his voluminous sweater on, frowning mentally at the state of his home clothes. She wondered idly why the Boy-Who-Lived always wore such oversized, worn clothes at the weekends. Surely his family must have bought him clothes that actually fitted before sending him off to boarding school?

"Somebody pushed me down the stairs outside of Charms." Harry said with a shrug, and Poppy's pleasant face creased in a frown.

"Have you told your Head of House?" she asked, and Harry nodded. He slid off the bed, catching himself on spread feet, and Neville grinned at him.

"Can you help me with my potions homework, Harry?" the freckled boy asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Got to finish mine yet. You coming, 'Mione?"

"In a minute. I want to talk to Madam Pomfrey for a minute." Hermione said, and shrugged at the boys' questioning looks. "Girl stuff, okay?" The two boys exchanged horrified looks and scarpered with hasty farewells, and the bushy-haired girl and the Healer smiled at each other.

"Works every year." Poppy said cheerfully, sitting on the edge of the bed casually. "So what can I do for you, Miss Granger?"

"I'm worried about Harry, Ma'am." Hermione said. "I don't think his home life was very good and I don't think he should go back for Christmas. Or ever, to be honest." Pomfrey nodded.

"It is good of you to be concerned for your friend, Miss Granger. Don't worry too much, though. Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape are well aware of Mr Potter's problems, as am I, and we are all investigating the situation at his home. Discreetly, of course." Hermione heaved a sigh of relief, and smiled at the Nurse.

"That's good. I really don't think the Dursleys were feeding him enough, and I'm almost positive they were beating him." She shrugged at Pomfrey's querying look. "There was a girl in my primary school that ended up getting taken into care because her parents were abusing her, so I sort of have an idea what to look for. But nobody at primary listened to us kids, and I wasn't sure whether the same would apply here."

"It is difficult." Pomfrey admitted. "There are so few wizards compared to muggles that very few pure-blood or half-blood wizarding children are abused. Children are too precious to us for that to happen. And most muggleborns have enough accidental magic to be able to defend themselves if abuse starts to happen." She shrugged. "Most of the few abused children that attend Hogwarts seem to end up in Slytherin, which is why Professor Snape has got involved. He has seen enough to be able to recognise the signs." She smiled reassuringly at the worried 11 year old girl. "Don't worry about young Mr Potter. I don't believe he is going home for Christmas anyway, and I am sure something will be sorted out by the end of the school year. A hex on his relatives, if all else fails!" Hermione giggled at that, and Pomfrey shooed her out of the Infirmary with instructions to go catch up with the boys.


	11. Chapter 11

_Another Sunday, another chapter! Thank you to all the people who have reviewed the last chapter, not to mention all those who have added my little story to their Favourite Stories list! It warms the cockles of my heart..._

_I hope everyone likes the next chapter - I have a few chapters in hand now due to some mad writing over the last week, so even though I start chemo again tomorrow I should still be able to update every week for a few weeks, at any rate. The update rate might slow down towards the end of January/February, but I will try and keep writing no matter how manky I feel so hopefully I should be able to keep up with the regular updates. Wish me luck!_

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Within a few days, Harry's bruises had disappeared and the grazes were mostly healed. Not really to his surprise, nothing had been found about the instigators of the attack upon him, and his fellow Gryffindor first years were still insisting on taking it in turns to accompany him about the Castle in the hope of averting any further attacks. Harry just sighed and accepted it, secretly quite glad to see his fellow students actually cared enough to do so. He had been pushed around and tripped enough by Dudley and his gang in primary school to want to avoid any further attacks if possible.

It was at breakfast on the Friday morning after the attack when Professor Snape stopped behind Harry on his way out of the Great Hall.

"Potter." He said by way of alerting Harry to his presence. The small black haired lad hastily swallowed his mouthful of bacon and twisted on the bench to look up at the tall hook-nosed professor questioningly. Snape's deep black eyes looked down at Harry's small face impassively.

"Remain behind after Potions this afternoon if you please. Potions is your last lesson of the day, is it not?" He said, and Harry's head bobbed in a nervous nod.

"Yes Professor." Harry turned back to his breakfast as Snape nodded in acknowledgement and strode off down the Great Hall on the way to his dungeons, his robes billowing out behind him in his usual vampiric style. Seamus looked down the Hall after the departing Potions Professor with mixed curiosity and admiration.

"How **does** 'e get his robes t' do that?" the Irish boy wondered aloud. "All mine do is tangle around me knees and trip me up!" The cheerful boy had a graze on his chin from that same occurrence as he spoke, from where he had tripped over his own, slightly over-large robes the day before. Dean, Seamus' best mate, snorted.

"Yeah, well, the fact that your Mum obviously bought you robes with room to grow into doesn't help you not trip over them, does it?" The rest of the Gryffindor first years laughed at that as the short (although not as short as Harry) Irish Gryffindor shrugged.

"Eh, well, I can't help it if me mam keeps hopin' I'll start shootin' up, can I?" he said defensively. "She keeps hopin' I'll start takin' after me Dad's side of the family and suddenly grow like a weed." Ron sniggered.

"You obviously need some Weasley blood, Seamus. We don't do shorties in our family."

"Yes, I noticed." Lavender chipped in from the other side of Neville. She batted her eyelashes at Ron mockingly. "I **do** like a tall man, Ronald." She purred teasingly, and the tall red head blushed a fiery red and edged away from her nervously as his fellow year mates laughed.

"Ron, you devil." Fred popped up behind his brother, who jumped along with a lot of the other first years.

"Chatting up the girls already?" George appeared behind Harry, who barely flinched as once he'd seen Fred he knew George would show up shortly.

"Do we need to tell Mum,"

"That her baby's growing up,"

"And is chasing girls already?" George looked over Harry's head at Ron with an evil grin, and his younger brother glared at him.

"Shut up." He grumbled, and his twin brothers smirked at him. Fred ruffled his hair, causing Ron to duck away, and looked across the table at Harry.

"Wood's told us," he began,

"to tell you," George continued,

"Quidditch practice tomorrow"

"At 11 am." George finished from behind Harry. The small seeker looked up at Fred and nodded, and felt George's big hand tousle his already messy hair before the twins slouched off for their morning's lessons.

"We'd better get going to History of Magic." Parvati said from the other side of Lavender, rising to her feet. Harry swallowed his last mouthful of pumpkin juice and scrambled over the bench after Neville, trudging with the rest of his fellow first years off to History of Magic. He trotted a few steps to catch up with Neville's longer legs and fell in beside his friend, running his hands through his hair to try and neaten it a little bit.

"Wonder what Snape wants?" Neville said softly to Harry, and the black haired boy shrugged.

"Dunno. Nice of him to give me all day to worry about it, though, isn't it?" He smiled up at Neville wryly, and got a grin in return.

Harry took his time clearing his supplies up at the end of Potions that evening, his stomach breeding butterflies as the end of the lesson approached. Hermione, Ron and Neville hovered by his table uncertainly as the rest of the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins escaped the dungeons as quickly as they could, and Harry smiled at them wanly.

"You three get out of here, before you get in trouble for loitering. I'll be really careful on the way back and I'll meet you in the Common Room." He said, seeing Snape hovering by the doorway impatiently.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Neville asked, eyeing Snape nervously. Harry nodded, and the freckled lad scuttled out with a shrug of relief, Ron close on his heels. Hermione looked at Harry sternly, and the boy stared back.

"Be good, Harry. And be careful on the way back to the Tower, okay?" the bushy-haired girl said sternly, and Harry nodded. Hermione turned on her heel in a flounce of skirt and robes and walked out, nodding politely at Snape where the tall man held the door of the dungeon open patiently. Snape nodded back, a faint smile flickering across his face as Hermione left, and let the door swing shut behind her. Harry jumped as it closed with a hollow 'boom', and Snape swept past him to sit down behind his desk. Snape looked at Harry and pulled out his wand, summoning a chair to a spot in front of the desk with a twirl of his wand.

"Sit down, Mr Potter." Harry dragged his bag across the floor and slumped into the chair, eyeing Professor Snape nervously as the tall man laid his wand down on the desk and folded his hands in front of him.

"Relax, Harry, you are not in trouble." Snape said in his soft, silky voice, seeing the nervousness on Harry's small face. Harry's big green eyes blinked at him, and the Professor sighed.

"I've been asked to let you know what's happening with finding your assailants of last weekend." He said plainly, and saw a sarcastic smile flicker across Harry's face before the boy looked down.

"Nothing, I'm betting." The child said sardonically, and he flicked a glance up through his fringe at Snape as the Professor grunted.

"Unfortunately, that is the case. Mr Filch caught a glimpse of them but only the back of the last one, and although he is in favour of torturing every brown haired student until one of them confesses, logistically that would be simply impossible." Snape smiled at Harry's surprised giggle, and shrugged. "There is not anything else we can realistically do, I am afraid." Snape admitted, eyeing the small Gryffindor in mild concern. Harry shrugged in response, his green eyes on the floor, and chewed on a fingernail.

"To be honest, Professor, I was never expecting anyone to get caught for it." He said softly, not looking up. "Nobody ever was in primary school, even though everyone there knew who had done the deeds each time, so I didn't think this place'd be any different seein' as I didn't see who did it."

"Do I take from that statement that you have been pushed down stairs before, Mr Potter?" Snape said sternly, surprised but trying to hide it. Harry's green eyes flicked him a glance before the boy looked down again and shrugged.

"Who bullied you in your previous school, then?" Snape asked curiously, and the boy shrugged again.

"Dudley an' his gang." Came the answer in a soft mumble, and Snape frowned.

"That would be your cousin, yes?" Harry's tousled head dipped in a nod, and the Potions Professor snorted.

"Well, we do not approve of bullying at Hogwarts, the behaviour of my Slytherin students not withstanding. If I catch them in bullying behaviour, especially something so dangerous as pushing people down stairs, they are in serious trouble." He studied Harry's small form pensively, then spoke again. "What is the address of your Aunt and Uncle, Harry?" The boy looked up warily.

"4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey." He responded automatically, and blinked at Snape. "Why?"

"I may pay your relatives a visit some point before Christmas." Snape said, and a look of horror appeared on Harry's small face.

"Oh, no, you can't!" he gasped, and clapped his hand over his mouth as Snape frowned at him.

"Why not?" he growled, and Harry flinched back into the chair.

"U-Uncle Vernon h-hates magic. If you go there I'll get in trouble when I have to go back at the end of term." Harry managed, and flinched away from the anger in Snape's black eyes. The tall man closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly before opening his eyes again and rising to his feet. He swept around the desk to sit on the edge of it, in front of Harry's chair, and the small boy looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Firstly, what on earth makes you think we would let you be sent back to that place if they treat you so badly?" Snape asked, folding his arms over his chest and eyeing Harry impassively. "And would your uncle really hold a grudge so long as from Christmas to July?" Harry ignored the first question in favour of answering the second, nodding fervently.

"Uncle Vernon can hold a grudge for years, Professor. If a wizard showed up on his doorstep about me, he'd still be fuming over it two years later, never mind seven months. **Please**, Professor, don't go there. Just leave them, please." Snape regarded him silently as Harry huddled in the chair, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them defensively, and the small boy looked up at his tall Professor pleadingly.

"Hmmmph." Snape grunted eventually. "We'll see, Mr Potter, we will see. Someone with ward sight will have to go at some point to check the blood wards are still working, but it may be that we can avoid contact with your relatives at the time. Will that satisfy you?" Harry gulped, and shrugged.

"Yessir." He swallowed nervously, and asked, "Professor? What are blood wards?" Snape looked down at him in surprise.

"Did no one tell you?" he asked, startled, and sighed when Harry shook his head silently.

"They are the reason Professor Dumbledore placed you with your Aunt and Uncle in the first place, Harry. Because your Aunt is related to your mother, your mother's blood that runs in both the veins of you and your aunt keeps you safe while you live there. Or at least, that is the theory. Questions have been raised about the effectiveness of the wards after your treatment by your relatives, so either myself, Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore will have to go and check the state of the wards to see if they are still up and working." Snape looked down at Harry's small face. "After that we can decide where you will be going next summer." Harry swallowed again, looking down, and Severus bent to look him in the eye.

"Professor McGonagall and I are doing our best to ensure that you never have to return there, Harry, I promise you that." He said softly, and Harry blinked at him before nodding obediently.

"Just, promise you won't see Uncle Vernon, please? Not until I know I don't have to go back ever?" he asked quietly, and Snape nodded.

"I promise. I will do nothing to your Uncle or Aunt until we have decided what is happening with you next Summer." He straightened smoothly, and looked down at the small first year. "Now you had better get off to your Common Room, hadn't you? And be careful in the corridors. We don't want you almost squashing Mrs Norris again." Harry's small face brightened with his smile at that, and he slid off the chair before bending and hauling the strap of his school bag over his head. Snape regarded the boy with raised eyebrows as the bag thumped into Harry's hip and the boy staggered forwards with a grunt before catching his balance and straightening under the weight.

"What on earth have you got in that bag, Mr Potter? The kitchen sink?" Harry giggled at hearing the common muggle phrase from Snape, and shrugged in response as he headed for the door.

"No, Professor. Just my schoolbooks for the day. We all figured it was easier and safer for me to carry everything round with me that I would need that day rather than keep going back and forth to Gryffindor Tower all day. After all, everyone knows what House I'm in." Harry shrugged at Snape's surprised grunt, and managed a faint smile at the tall Potions Professor. "It were Ron's idea." He said, and heaved the heavy dungeon door open to slip out. Severus rose and stalked after him, catching the door before it swung shut and emerging into the corridor after the small Gryffindor. Harry looked back in surprise, and Snape gave him a faint smile.

"I shall accompany you to the Fat Lady. Simply because I do not want to deal with the grief I will get from your classmates if anything else happens to you between here and there." He added in qualification at Harry's surprised look, and the small boy shrugged.

"Okay, Professor. If you say so." He trotted beside Snape as the hook-nosed man swept out of the dungeons towards the upper levels of the school, slowing his pace to allow the small 11 year old to keep up.


	12. Chapter 12

_Another week, another chapter :) If I've got the date of the first Quidditch match wrong, a thousand apologies. I have mislaid my copy of the Philosopher's Stone so can't check, but I'm fairly sure it was about Halloween time. If not, hey this is AU anyway so I don't care:)_

_Anyway, unlike last week hopefully Fanfic will let me post the right chapter instead of getting possessed and selecting the previous weeks! Thanks to both of those who pointed that out - I did change it as soon as I realised!_

_Hope you all enjoy this chapter, and thanks for all the reviews!_

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Harry's first Quidditch match as Gryffindor Seeker was the day before Halloween. He had been training hard with the rest of the Quidditch team since the arrival of his Nimbus 2000, and hopes were high that Gryffindor might manage to beat Slytherin for what would apparently be the first time in four years.

Harry jerked awake after a bad dream early that Saturday morning, his heart pounding and sweat running down his face. He shot upright in his bed as he managed to throw himself awake and out of the dream, and blinked blindly at the closed curtains of his bed before sagging back into his pillows with a quiet sigh. He rubbed his hands over his face, flinching as his left hand touched his throbbing scar, and stared blindly up into the darkness as his mind replayed what he could remember of the nightmare.

He seemed to have been in Professor Quirrell's Defence Against The Dark Arts class, which happened to have been the first years' last class on the day before, but a high, evil voice had been coming from the back of Quirrell's ratty old purple turban. Harry couldn't remember what it had been saying in the dream, but he knew it hadn't been nice.

_"Oh, you're just weird, Potter."_ Harry thought to himself in irritation, shaking off the after-effects of the nightmare with an irritated frown. _"As if something's going to be living in the back of Squirrell's head!"_ He used the students' nickname for Quirrell in his thoughts, though he would never have dared say it out loud where any Professors could hear him.

After lying in his bed for a further half hour or so listening to his dorm-mates sleep, Harry gave up as a bad job the hope of getting any more sleep and got up. He slid out of bed, hissing slightly as his feet met the cold stone floor of the dormitory, and hurriedly shoved his new slippers on to keep his feet warm whilst he pulled clean clothes out of his trunk and tiptoed off to the bathroom to get a shower and dressed.

Half an hour later he was tiptoeing down the stairs into the Gryffindor Common Room, trying not to disturb anyone as it was seven o'clock in the morning. He was clad in his new home clothes, a parcel of which had arrived earlier in the week after McGonagall had authorised him to send off the order a couple of weeks previously. Harry was just happy to have warm clothes that were new and fit, well almost. He had taken McGonagall's advice and bought clothes a bit too big, in the hope that now he was eating three meals a day he would actually start to grow a bit more, but they still fitted better than Dudley's old, outgrown clothes that were all Petunia and Vernon had ever allowed him.

Harry flopped down in a chair at the table nearest the fireplace after stoking up the open fire to take the late October chill out of the air, and opened his Transfiguration textbook. He unrolled a piece of parchment and picked up his quill before starting his Transfiguration assignment, attempting to keep his mind off the pre-Quidditch nerves that were starting to breed butterflies in the pit of his stomach. The match was due to start at 11 am, a good four hours away, and Harry was already feeling decidedly nervous.

He had almost finished his Transfiguration assignment by the time other Gryffindors started emerging, Hermione unsurprisingly being one of the first downstairs.

"Hi Harry!" she said brightly, crossing the Common Room towards him. "You're up early. And doing homework, as well!" She squinted at him in mock concern, and put a hand on his forehead. "Are you feeling okay?" Harry glowered at her half-heartedly and moved his head away, finishing off the last bit of his essay before corking his ink bottle and putting his quill down with a sigh.

"Bad dream woke me up, then I couldn't get back to sleep." He said, rolling his Transfiguration assignment up carefully. "What time is it, anyway?"

"About eight am." The brown haired girl answered. Harry sighed, and pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes.

"Drat. Hoped it was later than that." He mumbled, folding his arms on top of his Transfiguration book and propping his chin on them. Hermione sat down in a chair next to him and regarded him sympathetically, seeing the faint smudges under his expressive green eyes.

"Nervous about the Quidditch match?" she asked softly, and Harry's lips quirked in a half smile.

"That obvious, am I?" he said wryly. "Yeah, just a bit." He glanced around the empty Common Room briefly, and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily.

"God, 'Mione, I'm terrified!" he whispered. "What if I screw it up? Everyone'll kill me!" Hermione reached out and patted his shoulder gently.

"You'll be fine, Harry." She said reassuringly. "It's in your blood, isn't it? I've told you before that your Dad was Seeker when he was here, and his Dad was on the Quidditch team as well. I know you're nervous, but try not to worry. You'll be fine, I promise." She smiled at him teasingly. "So long as you don't fall off your broom, anyway!" Harry managed a half-hearted chuckle, slightly reassured by her words but still nervous, then Ron and Neville came bounding down the stairs from the boys' dormitories and charged across to them. Harry flinched back instinctively into his chair, caught by surprise, and Neville slowed to a walk, dragging Ron back by his sleeve until the red head did the same.

"Morning Harry!" Ron said excitedly, leaning on the table when he reached it. "Morning, Hermione!" The tall red head grinned down at Harry as the smaller boy managed to relax again, and Neville perched on the chair next to him.

"Hey, Harry, Hermione." The freckled lad said in greeting. "You two hungry?" Hermione nodded but Harry shook his head fervently, too nervous to eat. Hermione frowned at him sternly.

"You have to eat something, Harry. You will fall off your broom in the middle of the match if you don't have any breakfast at all." She scolded mildly, and Harry grimaced.

"Come on. Come down for breakfast with us and see how you feel when you get down there." Neville suggested. Harry shrugged, and gathered up his Transfiguration schoolwork.

"Okay. Just let me put these back in my trunk." He disappeared up the stairs with his armload, and the other three moved to wait for him by the portrait hole. Other Gryffindors were starting to come down and head out for breakfast in the Great Hall, including Oliver Wood and the three Gryffindor chasers. Fred and George came down the stairs not long after Harry had disappeared up them, and the red headed twins eyed the three first years lurking to the side of the portrait hole suspiciously as they ambled over.

"And what are you three doing lurking here?" Fred asked curiously as the twins reached the three 11 year olds. Ron shrugged.

"Waiting for Harry." He responded, looking back at the stairwell.

"Ah." George said. "I thought I heard firstie footsteps going up as we came out." The tall twin looked past Fred at the stairs just as Harry came back down, his hands in his pockets, and slouched over to his fellow first years and the Gryffindor Beaters.

"Hey, Harry," Fred greeted cheerfully, reaching out – cautiously – to ruffle Harry's messy black hair. The 11 year old ducked out of the way automatically, not flinching just avoiding the hair-ruffle, and grunted a reply. George squinted down at him measuringly, and raised his eyebrows at Fred as he saw the pallor in Harry's face and the smudges under his green eyes.

"Nervous about the match?" George asked as the six climbed out of the portrait hole. Harry grimaced and nodded, his stomach churning, and the Weasley twins clucked their tongues at him. Ron blinked at them in surprise.

"You sound like Mum!" he accused, as Fred said to Harry,

"Don't panic about it, Harry."

"You'll be fine." George continued, ignoring his youngest brother apart from a gentle slap to the back of Ron's head that elicited a startled yelp of protest as the group headed for the Great Hall.

"Yeah, so long as no-one hexes you,"

"Or your broom,"

"Or the bludgers,"

"Or knocks you off your broom,"

"The game'll be a push over." The twins grinned down at Harry, who rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, guys, that really helped." He said sarcastically, and clutched his churning stomach.

"I really don't think I can eat anything." He moaned as they reached the Great Hall. The Gryffindor Quidditch team was all seated together at the nearest end of the Gryffindor Tables, and Fred and George led the way to join them. Fred sat down next to Oliver Wood, George sat down next to Angelina Johnson and leant his head on her shoulder adoringly until she pushed him off with a smile. The four first years sat down on the other side of the Weasley twins, Harry then Neville on Fred's bench and Ron and Hermione on George's.

"Get off, Weasley." Angelina said amiably, shoving her fellow third year's head off her shoulder so he bounced off his younger brother.

"Marry me, Angelina." George said cheerfully, and the tall black girl snorted with laughter.

"Not likely, Forge. You aren't handsome or rich enough yet." She chuckled, reaching for some more pumpkin juice, and George heaved a mournful sigh.

"Eat a couple of slices of toast at least, Harry." Hermione pleaded, and Neville put two slices on Harry's plate and pushed across the jar of marmalade. Harry managed a wan smile but didn't move, his stomach churning with nerves, and Oliver looked past Fred at him.

"Nervous?" he asked in his soft Scottish accent. Harry gulped and nodded, clutching his stomach, and Wood smiled.

"They're right, you know, you ought to eat something. You'll feel better with a bit of food in your stomach, I promise." He smiled at the small 11 year old reassuringly, ignoring Fred filling his plate between them.

"I promise I won't kill you if we don't win." Fred and George dropped their forks with clatters, and gaped at the tall fifth year in shock.

"Eh?" George managed,

"Do my ears deceive me?"

"Oliver Wood promising **not** to kill someone,"

"If we don't win a Quidditch match,"

"Against **Slytherin**?!?"

Fred glowered at Oliver Wood suspiciously. "Who are you and what have you done with our Quidditch Captain?" The watching Gryffindors laughed, even Harry managing a wan chuckle, as Oliver grabbed Fred around the neck and pretended to choke him. However he whispered into the red head's ear at the same time,

"I'm trying to get Harry to eat something, you moron. If he doesn't eat he'll fall of the broom in the middle of the match from lack of food, and then we're really scuppered!" He hissed into Fred's ear before letting the twin go. Fred sat up straight, rubbing his neck, and gave Wood a quick wink before thumping him in the ribs and going back to his breakfast. He kept an eye on Harry as the small boy began slathering the usual buckets of marmalade onto his toast, and winked again at Wood as he saw Harry start to eat something reluctantly.

Harry was surprised to find that he did actually feel better for eating something, although he still couldn't manage more than a couple of slices of toast with marmalade despite Hermione's wheedling. He looked up in relief as Oliver Wood rose eventually and looked around at his Quidditch team.

"Come on. Time we went and got ready." The tall Quidditch Captain said, and Harry rose with the rest of the Quidditch team.

"See you guys after the match." He said to Ron, Neville and Hermione, who all wished him luck. Harry scrambled out over the bench and trotted after Oliver Wood and the three Chasers, Katie Angelina and Alicia. Fred and George fell in beside Harry and smirked down at the small first year identically.

"Hey, Harry,"

"Nervous yet?" Harry's friends heard them teasing him as the Quidditch Team disappeared through the doors of the Great Hall, and heard Harry's voice in response although the trio were too far away by that point for them to hear what Harry actually said.

As has been written elsewhere, Gryffindor won the first Quidditch match of the season by a resounding victory, due to Harry almost swallowing the Snitch. He picked himself up off the ground in the Quidditch Stadium and coughed the Snitch up into the palms of his Quidditch gloves, wrapping his fingers around it hastily before it flew off. Katie Bell swept to a halt beside him, her free hand holding the handle of his Nimbus, and let out a shriek of delight as she saw he had the Snitch clutched in his right hand.

"We did it!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, waving frantically at Madam Hooch where the Professor was refereeing the match high above. "Harry's got the Snitch!" Harry rubbed his bruised chin with his left hand as Katie jumped off her broom, then he yelped in protest as she flung her arms around him and lifted him up in a fierce hug as Lee Jordan's distant voice echoingly pronounced the final scores and the crowd went wild.

"Gerroff!" Harry squirmed free, and glowered half-heartedly up at the tall blonde third year. Katie let him go and ruffled his hair affectionately before reaching behind her and handing him his broom.

"Come on, Harry. Victory lap then back for major party in the Common Room." She said cheerfully. "And well done, by the way." She mounted her broom after he climbed on his, and the two Gryffindors rose into the air to rejoin the rest of their team.

The Slytherin team watched gloomily as the Gryffindor team did a victory circuit of the Quidditch pitch, the Snitch still clutched in Harry's right hand and its silver wings beating against his fingers.

Then the two Quidditch teams flew back to their respective changing rooms to get out of their uniforms and put their kit and brooms away, and the crowd of teachers and students started to file out of the Stadium.

"How's the chin, Harry?" Angelina asked as Harry slid off his broom in the storage area and moved to slot it into it's space on the storage rack. Madam Hooch had taken the Snitch back and put it away in the ball box with the bludgers and the quaffle. Harry shrugged.

"Bit sore." He admitted, prodding it gingerly. "Does it look as bad as it feels?" The tall black girl chuckled and shook her head, her long black cornrows swinging gently.

"No. Just a nice graze right across the point of your chin. It's not bleeding any more, anyway." Harry managed a smile, tired from all the excitement of his first Quidditch match, and slotted his broom away carefully before heading into the changing rooms to get out of his Quidditch kit.

He peered in the mirror in the changing room as he pulled on his t-shirt half an hour later, and grimaced at the sight of the ugly red graze across the point of his chin.

"Its all right, Harry," Fred came up behind him in the mirror and grinned down at the small eleven year old.

"Honourable wounds of battle, isn't it." The tall thirteen year old said cheerfully as he began to comb his damp hair, and Harry snorted. He pulled his sweater over his head, and pushed his glasses back into place on the bridge of his nose before dragging a comb through his tangled black hair.

"Ye Gods, your hair is actually flat." George said teasingly from across the changing room, and Harry smiled with a rude gesture over his shoulder at the Weasley twin.

"It is now." He said, turning to cross back to the benches and pull his trainers back on. "It won't be when it dries, though."

"You three done?" Oliver asked from the doorway impatiently, and Harry tied off his last shoe lace and scrambled up. He pulled his cloak on and followed Wood out of the changing rooms, Fred and George close behind him.

The Weasley twins peeled off from the Quidditch team once into the castle, muttering something about getting some food for the party in the Common Room, and Harry trotted after the rest of his team mates towards Gryffindor Tower. He rubbed his hands together as he walked, trying to get them warmed up, and made a mental note to himself to try and remember to buy some decent gloves and maybe a hat before the weather got really cold.

Then the group reached the Fat Lady and climbed through the portrait hole to be met by an explosion of cheering from the rest of Gryffindor House. Even Professor McGonagall was there, ensconced in a comfortable armchair near the fire in a place of honour. Harry was pulled through the portrait hole by Angelina and Alicia and hoisted up onto the shoulders of two burly fourth year Gryffindor boys for a circuit of the Common Room, and he was flushed an embarrassed red as they let him down next to Neville and Professor McGonagall.

"Well done, Harry." McGonagall said, patting his back in congratulations. Harry gave her a bright smile, his blush fading, and grunted as Neville gave him a fierce hug.

"How's your chin? We thought you'd had it when your broom went mental, Hermione nearly died."

"You and me both." Harry said, flopping onto the couch behind him. "Thought I was a goner for a minute. I don't know what happened to my broom." He rubbed his stomach as it growled, and shrugged at Neville's grin. "I'm starving. Not like I ate much at breakfast."

"Hmmm. I don't see the Weasley twins." McGonagall remarked, standing up briefly to look for the tall red heads. Harry shook his head, curling up on the end of the couch comfortably.

"They disappeared on the way back up here, saying something about getting some food." He said to his Head of House as she sat down again, and McGonagall smiled at him conspiratorially.

"In that case, I should think they've gone to pester the house-elves in the kitchens and will probably be up here with armloads of food quite shortly." She said, smiling at the two first years as Neville sat down next to Harry. "They don't think I know that they know the password to the kitchens, but I did it myself as a student here." Harry grinned at the thought of McGonagall as a student, then the portrait swung open and about 10 trays laden with food and drink floated through, levitated by Fred and George who climbed in afterwards before guiding the trays to rest on the tables scattered throughout the Common Room. Harry jumped to his feet and wove his way through the crowd to the nearest table, Neville close behind him, and Minerva watched him vanish into the press of taller children with an affectionate smile.


	13. Chapter 13

_Another new chapter for you all! Hope you like it._

_Thanks for the reviews that I've had over the last chapter, not to mention all those who've added my little story to their Favourites! If I've got any canon dates wrong, I apologise in advance :) I don't think I have in this chapter - I'm fairly sure the troll got in on Halloween!!_

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The following day was Halloween, and Harry was woken by Ron's scream of pure terror as Fred and George dropped a large rubber spider onto his bed at 9 am. The four other boys in the first year dormitory shot out of their beds with yells of alarm at the scream, Harry and Seamus actually having the presence of mind to grab their wands off their bedside tables in the process, and found the two Weasley twins bent double with laughter. They were standing beside Ron's bed and holding each other up, laughing so hard they could hardly stand, as their younger brother glared at them furiously.

"You….. you …. **Bastards**." He sputtered after five minutes, picking the rubber spider up by one leg gingerly and throwing it in George's face. "I'm writing to Mum, you gits." Fred pulled a horrified face, and George laughed even harder.

"Ooooo, sorry, Ronniekins," George apologised as he caught his breath and stood up on weak knees.

"Did we scare you?" asked Fred in a saccharine sweet voice. Ron snarled a curse at them and jerked his bed curtains shut angrily, and the twins laughed again. They looked around the room at the gaping first years, and smirked evilly at them. Neville and Dean gave them a worried look and disappeared back into their beds hastily, but Seamus managed to stand his ground long enough to grab his wash things and squeeze past them to the bathroom. Harry just put his wand back on his bedside table and sat down on his bed with a long-suffering sigh, reaching for his glasses as he did so. He slid his glasses onto his nose and shook his head at the sniggering identical twins, and they shrugged at him

"You two are **so** grown up." Harry said sarcastically, and the twins shrugged again.

"Got to have some fun, Harry." Fred said cheerfully, and George nodded.

"Hah, yeah. Just wait til we find out what scares you." With that mild threat and parting evil smirks the tall twins slouched out of the dorm, and Harry shook his head. He scrubbed his hands through his messy hair and slid his feet into his slippers before poking his head through Ron's bed curtains cautiously. The lanky red head was curled up under his blankets with his back to Harry, and the small boy patted his shoulder tentatively.

"Hey, Ron, you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I hate them two sometimes, I really do."

"Yeah, I can see why. Arachnophobia, is it?" Harry asked, and Ron's blankets moved as the boy nodded.

"Yeah. Courtesy of them gits transfiguring my teddy bear into a spider when I was little. Bastards." Ron rolled over and looked sideways at Harry, his eyes red, and the black haired boy smiled at him as he leant on the edge of Ron's bed.

"Are you going to write to your mum?" he asked curiously, and Ron shrugged.

"Probably. With a bit of luck she'll send the buggers a Howler, which'll at least embarrass them a little bit at breakfast when the post arrives. Better than nothing."

"We'll have to think of something to get them back." Harry suggested, and Ron arched his eyebrows at the smaller first year.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. We could ask 'Mione and Neville and see what they think of. Between the four of us we're bound to think of something, surely." Ron smiled at the thought and nodded, his eyes narrowing as he started plotting, and Harry grinned. He turned to get his towel and clean home clothes and headed for the shower, and Ron followed a few moments later.

"What happened to your back, Harry?" Ron asked as the two lads were getting dressed after their showers, Seamus having left just as they came in. Harry twisted in an attempt to see over his own shoulder, confused, and Ron snorted as he watched his friend contort.

"It's got all white stripes across it, silly." The tall red head said, and Harry's eyebrows arched. "Don't you ever look in a mirror?"

"Not at my own back, no." Harry turned his back to the mirrors on one wall of the boys' bathroom and twisted to see what his back was like. He grimaced as he saw the criss-crossing white lines scattered across his spine and ribs, and shrugged as he pulled his t-shirt on.

"So what made all them marks? I've seen them before but I keep forgetting to ask." Ron asked, sitting on the bench and pulling on his socks and shoes. Harry's head popped out of his t-shirt, and the boy shoved his glasses further up his nose before sitting down to put his socks and trainers on.

"Uncle Vernon, I should think." Harry muttered in response to Ron's question, not wanting to talk about it. The red head opened his mouth to ask something else, but unusually fell silent at Harry's glare. He seemed to be learning a bit of tact, or at least learning to realise when Harry didn't want to talk about something. The small black haired boy pulled his sweater on and grabbed his towel, disappearing back out of the bathroom to their dorm. He made a conscious effort to shake off the unpleasant memories that seeing the marks on his back had incurred, towelling his hair half dry before dropping his towel on his bed and descending the stairs to the Common Room. Unsurprisingly Hermione was there already, although Harry was a bit surprised to see Neville Seamus and Dean sitting with the bushy haired girl, together with Parvati and Lavender.

"Morning Harry." Parvati said, she was sitting in an armchair facing the stairs so she was the first to see the green eyed first year enter the Common Room. Harry nodded and sat down on the arm of the couch next to Hermione, who as usual had her nose stuck in a book.

"You lot had breakfast yet?" Harry asked, looking round at his fellow first years as Ron came down the stairs and clumped over. Parvati, Lavender and Hermione nodded, Parvati smiled up at Harry from her seat.

"We got up earlier than you lazy lot did." Harry grinned and shrugged.

"I like having a lie in. Makes a pleasant change." He said, and followed the other first year Gryffindor boys off for breakfast.

Later that afternoon Harry and his three friends, Hermione Neville and Ron, were sat around a table in the library finishing off the last of their homework from the previous week. Harry finished measuring his Potions essay and smiled in satisfaction at seeing it an inch longer than Snape's requirement of twelve inches.

"Is it long enough?" Neville asked, looking up from his Charms essay. Harry nodded and corked his ink as he answered.

"Yup. Thirteen inches." He said happily, rolling it up carefully. "Nice and neat, too. I think I'm finally getting the hang of writing with a quill – this essay's not got nearly as many splatters and splodges on it."

"Huh. Bet Snape still complains about the state of it, though." Hermione said, frowning as she read over her own Potions homework. "God, what I wouldn't give for a fountain pen."

"Yeah. Or even a biro." Harry said in agreement, ignoring the blank looks of Neville and Ron. "I swear next year I'm smuggling some pencils in just to rough out my assignments with. My handwriting's bad enough without trying to get the hang of a quill as well."

"Yup." Hermione smiled in satisfaction at the length of her essay and rolled it up, as Harry leant forward over the table conspiratorially.

"Hey, listen." He said softly as the other three leant in to hear him. "We need to think of a prank to hit Fred and George with." He knew the Terrible Twins weren't in the library, but spoke softly anyway out of instinct. "They scared the crap out of Ron this morning and woke us all up, so they deserve some payback." Ron nodded fervently as Neville gulped, and Hermione shrugged.

"So long as we can find something where they can't tell its us that have done it." She said cautiously, and the boys shrugged.

"Fine by me." Neville said, and Ron and Harry agreed.

"But what are we going to do?" Ron said. "I've tried pulling pranks on those two before and always got caught. Or the prank never worked. Or both." The red head grimaced at some memory, and Harry frowned thoughtfully.

"I tied Dudley's shoelaces together once and he fell over three times before he figured out what was wrong." He said reminiscently, smiling at the memory. The other three chuckled softly at the thought, and Harry shrugged. "He's not the sharpest tool in the box, cousin Dudley." The boy admitted, and although Ron and Neville had never heard the muggle saying before they got the gist of it.

"We could try that on the twins." Neville suggested. "Only with a spell, maybe?"

"Yeah, but rather than tie their shoelaces together, why not tie the laces of say Fred's right shoe to George's left?" Hermione suggested, and Harry grinned.

"Sort of like a three-legged race? That's a brilliant idea, 'Mione!" He smiled at the girl, who shrugged with a smile in return.

"Is there a charm or something to do that?" Ron asked, and Neville snorted.

"Well if there is we're in the right place to find it, aren't we?" he said, shoving his chair back. He headed into the Charms section of the stacks and returned after a brief time with four different Charms books, which he passed out to the other three as he sat down. "Bound to be something in here somewhere." He said.

"Hmmm. A simple tying or fastening charm should do the job. What gets tied would be in the direction of the wand movement, I would think." Hermione said thoughtfully, and the quartet started searching through the books.

"Hah, found it!" Ron exclaimed in a whisper half an hour later. "What about this one?" He turned the book around so the other three could read the description of the charm, and Harry and Neville looked at Hermione questioningly after reading the instructions. The girl shrugged.

"Looks like it might work. Anyone got their wand on them? We could try it out on one of our shoes." Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket with a triumphant flourish, and pushed his chair away from the table a bit to give himself room to work. He pulled the book over and read through the words and the required wand movement again as Neville turned his chair to reveal his trainers, the laces undone on one as usual, and Harry smiled at him reassuringly.

"How do we get it to stop if it lasts a long time?" he asked before starting. "Just in case it all goes haywire, like."

"Finite incantatem." Hermione said softly, and the black haired boy nodded.

"Right. Keep an eye out for Madame Pince." He said, and Ron turned in his chair to do that. Luckily they were in a secluded corner of the library, and the Librarian was nowhere in sight.

"Okay." Harry took a deep breath and stared at Neville's untied trainer, practicing the wand movement once before repeating it at the untied laces and saying softly "Ligo una." He let out a soft "Hah!" of triumph as Neville's laces abruptly snaked up and tied into a neat bow at the top of the trainer, and punched the air in triumph.

"Yes!" Neville said happily, and Hermione clapped Harry on the back in congratulations.

"Nice one, Harry!" she said triumphantly as Ron leant over sideways to see and whistled in approval.

"Brilliant!" the red head said, and Harry grinned.

"Sorted." He said happily. "And a fairly discreet wand movement, as well. If I wait until the twins aren't looking at me, I ought to get away with them not noticing at all."

"Or we could have a game of exploding snap near them and make sure some of the cards go under their table or chairs when we finish, so you have to crawl around by their feet to pick the cards up." Ron suggested as the four started to put their homework away.

"Depends what's happening at the time." Hermione said. "We don't want to get caught if we can help it."

"Dead right." Neville said with a shiver. "I don't need those two lunatics after me, thank you very much!"

"Ah, chicken, the lot of you." Harry said cheerfully as they all shouldered their bags and left the library, heading back to Gryffindor Tower. "If we can manage to sit opposite them at mealtimes that'd do. I could drop my fork or something and zap 'em under the bench when I go pick it up." Hermione giggled at the looks on the faces of Ron and Neville.

"Zap?" Ron repeated, and Harry rolled his eyes. He pulled his wand out and jabbed it in Ron's direction, saying "Zap" in illustration, and the two wizard-born boys got the idea.

"Wands out in the corridors, Mr Potter?" said Snape's deep voice from behind the four Gryffindors, and the quartet whirled with yips of surprise.

"I hope you weren't trying to hex anyone, Mr Potter?" the tall hook-nosed professor queried suspiciously, and Harry shook his head vigorously.

"No sir, Professor. I was just explaining to Ron what "Zap" meant." He explained hastily, and saw Snape's eyebrows rise.

"Zap? Ah yes, the muggle word from comics." He remarked, and smirked at the stunned faces of the four first years. "I am a wizard, not a troglodyte. I do know something of the muggle world." He smirked at the four Gryffindors and swept off down an adjacent corridor, leaving them speechless behind him.

The quartet joined the rest of Gryffindor House an hour or two later in heading down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Harry peeked out from behind Ron and saw Fred and George's red heads bobbing in the midst of a crowd of third year students, and the small eleven year old prodded Ron in the ribs.

"Keep an eye on where those two sit." He hissed as the taller boy looked down at him. "You're taller than the rest of us, you can see better and it'll be less obvious than me jumping up and down every five minutes." Ron grinned at the image of Harry bouncing up and down like a jack in the box, and nodded obediently.

"Hey, quick. Get those seats!" Ron hissed urgently 20 minutes later as they all shuffled up the Gryffindor tables. He plopped himself down hastily on an empty patch of bench that coincidentally happened to be almost opposite Fred and George where they sat facing the middle of the hall. Hermione sat down next to George as Harry and Neville grabbed the seats on either side of Ron, Harry ending up opposite Hermione as Neville sat down opposite Fred. The rest of the Gryffindor first years managed to fight their way into seats next to Harry and Hermione, the older students still milling around having to take seats on the benches further up the tables.

"Wotcher firsties." Fred said cheerfully, and Ron scowled at him. George raised his eyebrows at his younger brother mockingly.

"Still sulking, Ronniekins?" he asked teasingly, and Ron scowled.

"No. Just spent all day doing homework." He grumbled, and Fred snorted.

"You should do it earlier in the week, then, shouldn't you?" he said, and Hermione coughed on her pumpkin juice as the plates in the middle of the table filled instantly. George patted her on the back til she caught her breath, and she blinked past him at Fred.

"That's what I've been telling them all term." She said, and Fred grinned.

"We may act like we don't care, Hermione, but we do try and get our homework done as early as possible."

"Gives us more time at the weekends to plot and plan." George said cheerfully. Ron rolled his eyes at that, and Harry kicked his ankle in warning. The green eyed lad reached for the food, hungry after all the quartet's plotting and studying, and Ron did the same.

"Hey, where's Squirrell?" George queried half an hour later, looking up at the Head Table. Harry leant back past Ron to look, and shrugged as he realised the stuttering professor of Defence Against The Dark Arts was absent.

"Dunno." He said, and cursed mildly as he dropped his fork. He grabbed for it and missed as it slid under the table with a clatter on the stone floor, and swore again.

"Language, Harry." Hermione scolded as Harry disappeared under the table, and Ron snorted.

"Who do you think you are, his mother?" he demanded. As part of the plan the four first years had decided that Ron and Hermione should bicker if Harry managed to get under the table, to provide a bit of cover and hopefully prevent the twins hearing the black haired lad's whispered spell under the table. After all, bickering on demand should be no problem for the bossy girl and rather idle red head.

"Oh shut up, Ronald." Hermione said loftily, glaring at the tall red head over her plate of roast turkey. "Just because you turn the air blue at any excuse doesn't mean the rest of us should." Fred and George looked over at their youngest brother curiously, smirking.

"Swearing, Ronniekins?" George said as Harry climbed back up onto his seat with his fork clutched in his hand.

"Should we snitch to Mum," Fred threatened,

"That her baby is swearing,"

"Like a sailor?"

"Try it and I'll tell her where I learnt all the swear words." Ron said bluntly, and the twins laughed.

"Oooo, you got us there." Fred admitted, and the youngest Weasley grinned. Harry dropped his dirty fork on the table and blinked in surprise as it promptly disappeared and was replaced with a clean one, and Ron nudged him surreptitiously. Harry looked up at the red head, and winked as he saw Ron's questioning look.

"I still wonder why Quirrell's not at the feast." George said thoughtfully. "Merlin knows the skinny bugger could use feeding up." Fred, his mouth full of food, nodded in agreement as Harry went back to his dinner and Ron arched his eyebrows briefly across the table at Hermione. The girl nodded and poked Neville's shin with her toe under the table, and the round-faced boy blinked.

Then the doors of the Great Hall were suddenly flung open with hollow booms as they hit the stone walls, and all heads in the Hall turned to see Professor Quirrell outlined in the doorway, his ridiculous purple turban askew. He raced up the Hall to the Head Table, and was halfway up before he shouted at the top of his lungs,

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" He stopped at the table, and said to Professor Dumbledore in his normal quavering voice, "Thought you ought to know…" before crumpling in a heap on the floor before the Head Table. Silence reigned in the Hall for a good 5 minutes before a good 80 of the students started panicking and screams rose into the air. Then Dumbledore's voice boomed across the panicking students, magically magnified.

"Silence!" Absolute quiet fell, and everyone looked at Dumbledore where the Headmaster stood tall and stern before his chair, the rest of the Professors gathered around him.

"Students will return to their dormitories. Prefects will lead the way. We will deal with the troll, so do not panic." He said the last with his usual fatherly twinkle in his eye that for some reason always made Harry's hackles rise. The eldest Weasley brother at Hogwarts, Percy the Prefect, rose importantly from his seat near the Head Table end of the Gryffindor tables, shouting for everyone to follow him, and Harry and his fellow first years scrambled out over the benches hastily to line up behind the other congregating Gryffindors. Then an explosive curse came from Fred and George as the first years were shuffling in the line towards the door of the Great Hall, and Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione all looked around to see the twins alternating between staring at each other in surprise and staring down at the floor between them and presumably their interlaced shoelaces. Ron grinned widely but turned away to hide it as the twins looked around suspiciously for the culprits of the prank, and Hermione struggled to keep a straight face as she trotted beside Ron.

"Nice one, Harry." Neville said softly where he walked beside the small black haired lad, and Harry shushed him hastily. He glanced back over his shoulder at the twins, and found them both staring at him with growing suspicion. He blinked at them innocently and trotted beside Neville in the midst of the crowd of Gryffindors exiting the Hall, seeing George pull his wand out to try and untangle the spell.

"Hah hah!" Ron crowed once out of the Great Hall and hopefully out of earshot of his twin brothers. "Yes!!" the tall eleven year old leapt up and punched the air in triumph before flinging his arm around Harry's shoulders in a grateful hug. "Thank you, Harry. That was brilliant!" The green eyed lad ducked out from under his friend's arm, and shrugged modestly.

"Worked quite well, didn't it?" he grinned as the Gryffindors all wound down the corridors after Percy. "I think they may be a bit suspicious, but I think we got away with it."

"Pranksters extraordinaire." Neville grinned, and Hermione chuckled.

"What, after one prank? On people who deserved it, at that? Don't go getting any ideas, boys." She said, but hugged Harry quickly anyway. "Well done, though, Harry. Perfect timing, as well." Harry grinned at her, green eyes dancing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** Thought I'd put it in for once! I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with his weird little world, I'm just borrowing it for a bit!

Another chapter for your delectation (big word there, I know - been reading again). In response to previous comments, of course Harry and Ron didn't go looking for the troll, 'cos Hermione wasn't crying in the bathroom instead she was with them in the Great Hall so she knew about the troll! So, no fight with the troll and no demolishing of the bathroom :)

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The furore from the Halloween feast and the invasion of Hogwarts by a troll lasted for a good week before fading away to the usual grumbles and mutterings of a boarding school with no more holidays until Christmas in two months' time. All that seemed to change was that Quirrell was even more jumpy and jittery than he had been before, and Snape was limping for a week after the feast. Despite much speculation between Harry and his friends, they couldn't decide why he was limping after the feast but not before it.

"Maybe it's got something to do with the forbidden corridor on the third floor." Hermione mused, remembering Professor Dumbledore's announcements at the Start of Term Feast two months ago. The girl was sitting at a table in the Gryffindor Common Room with Harry and Neville. The two boys were trying to finish their Potions essay before the next Potions lesson the following day, and all she got in response to her wondering was absent-minded grunts of acknowledgement. She sighed and smiled smugly, having finished her assignment 15 minutes ago, and leant her chin on her hands to watch the two boys frowning over their assignments.

Then Fred and George walked past, and Hermione saw Harry's eyes track them warily under his lashes, although he didn't look up. The twins eyed the trio of first years suspiciously with especial attention to the outwardly-oblivious Harry, and Hermione waved at them brightly. George winked at her and Fred smirked, and the girl watched them disappear out of the portrait hole thoughtfully.

"They gone?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded.

"I think they've worked out it was me who pranked them on Halloween." The green eyed boy said, looking over his shoulder in relief at seeing a lack of Weasley twins. "They're acting awful suspicious."

"Well, if they try anything we can always leg it." Neville said, giving up on his homework with a sigh. Harry smiled.

"Yeah, so long as they try it out in the corridors. Limited amount of places to leg it to in here." Neville grinned.

"We could always hide under our beds." He chortled, and Harry and Hermione laughed.

Harry's suspicions turned out to be founded in fact when Fred and George waylaid the black haired lad, Hermione, Neville and Ron on their way back to Gryffindor Tower the following evening, after Potions. The quartet of first years turned a corner onto a temporarily deserted corridor to come face to face with the lurking Weasley twins, who had been waiting for just this opportunity.

"Harry!" exclaimed George in false cheer, twirling his wand in his fingers ominously.

"What a surprise to run into you here." Said Fred in fake surprise.

"Its always nice to meet,"

"A fellow prankster." Fred finished with an evil glower from his suddenly-ominous height. Harry blinked up at him innocently, refusing to be intimidated. He was used to people looming over him anyway, being the shortest person in Hogwarts after Professor Flitwick.

"Prankster?" he said innocently as Hermione, Ron and Neville clustered behind him anxiously. He shifted his bag on his shoulder and slid his right hand into his robe pocket to wrap his fingers around his wand for comfort. "Dunno what you mean, guys." He said, blinking big green eyes up at the twins. The tall red heads exchanged jaundiced looks and smirked down at the small eleven year old.

"You can stop with the puppy dog eyes, Harry." Fred said dryly.

"Yeah, we've tried that tactic often enough on Mum," George said,

"To recognise it when it's tried on us." Fred finished.

"All we want to know,"

"Before we hex you into oblivion,"

"Or prank you back right this minute,"

"Is exactly what you did to our shoes." The twins looked down at Harry with identical querying yet stern expressions, and the boy shrugged with a smile, admitting defeat. He glanced warningly over his shoulder at his three friends, who all started backing up carefully causing Fred and George's eyes to flick over Harry's head to look at them.

"I did this." Their startled blue eyes flicked back down to Harry just as the boy shouted "Ligo una!", having slipped his wand out of his pocket as they were briefly distracted, and the laces of Fred's right trainer and George's left were abruptly tied together again. Harry turned and ran, Ron, Hermione and Neville having already taken off down the corridor, as the twins swore in mingled self-disgust at having allowed themselves to be fooled again and admiration at Harry for managing it.

Harry hared down the corridor after his three friends, his school bag bouncing on his back and grinning his head off as he ran. He yelped and ducked as a jet of red light shot over his head, and starting dodging randomly as he ran as he heard one of the twins yell "Stupefy!" That spell bounced off a suit of armour just past Harry and hit the wall just behind Ron, who yelped and sped up to a flat out run. The red head skidded round a corner just ahead, and Hermione Neville and Harry followed his lead.

Harry cursed as he heard one of the twins shout "Finite Incantatem!". He had hoped his charm would stop them for at least 10 minutes before they figured out how to cancel it, but no such luck.

"We got to get out of this corridor and find somewhere to hide!" he panted, managing to catch up with Hermione as she had shorter legs and a heavier school bag than Ron and Neville. "They've cancelled the Charm and are after us!"

"Drat!" Hermione gasped, her thick hair bouncing on her shoulders as she ran.

"Ron!" Harry managed to yell, hearing distant footsteps following the fleeing quartet. "Find us .. somewhere to .. hide before .. your brothers .. catch up .. with us!" The tall red head in the lead looked back briefly then hared around a corner just ahead, ricocheting off the far wall before he caught his balance and charged down it. It turned into a dusty old stairwell a few feet down it's length, and Ron bounded up it two at a time with Neville close behind him. Hermione managed to keep her balance on rounding the corner without smacking into the wall, running after the taller lads, but Harry bounced off the wall like Ron had as he skidded around the corner.

"Quick, through here!" Ron gasped at the top of the stairs as Harry staggered up them, his legs shaking from effort. The taller boy was holding a tapestry out of the way to reveal a dark dusty corridor off the long landing the stairs had come out onto, and Harry frowned.

"Won't they realise?"

"No. Look." Ron gestured behind him as Harry heard a grating noise, and the boy glanced back to see the stairwell they had just charged up moving across the void to a new landing. He sighed in relief and ducked under the tapestry ahead of Ron, who let it fall behind him and shuffled after Harry cautiously.

"God, I thought we'd had it for sure then." Harry wheezed as he found Hermione and Neville further down the dusty, obviously disused corridor. A torch held in a sconce at the top of a tall pillar flared into life with a whoosh as Ron caught up with them, and the quartet jumped.

"Will they get us next time, do you think?" Neville asked worriedly as the foursome started down the dusty corridor slowly. Harry was still wheezing for air, having had to run almost twice as fast as Ron and Neville to keep up with them. Ron shook his head.

"Nah. Out of sight is usually out of mind for Fred and George. They tend not to hold grudges about pranks, once they've at least **tried** to get you back. If you outwit them, then fair do's to you and they tend to forgive and forget. Or at least forgive and try and duplicate it on some other poor sod." Harry laughed at that, imagining the twins trying his charm on Malfoy or one of the Professors, as Hermione heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness for that. I didn't fancy having to hide in Gryffindor Tower waiting for those two to jump out at us any moment."

"No. I think the stress'd kill me off." Harry said cheerfully. "Where the hell are we, anyway?" He got three shrugs in response, and snorted mockingly. "Fat lot of good you three are, then." He said, and dodged Ron's amiable swipe at his head.

"I think we might be on the third floor corridor." Hermione said softly, paranoia rearing it's ugly head as she finally really noticed the thick layer of dust on the floor. "You know, where we aren't supposed to be? I mean, we'd gone up one flight of stairs before Fred and George waylaid us, then we went up another one which takes us to the third floor, and its obvious no one's been in here for ages."

"Well, somebody has. Look, footprints!" Neville said, pointing down the corridor as another torch whooshed alight just ahead of them. The other three looked and saw two sets of footprints in the dust ahead of them, one going down the corridor and another coming back up.

"Okay. So which one's are leading to the way out? We don't need to get caught in here, do we?" Harry said sensibly, and got three shrugs in response again. He heaved a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes, hitching his school bag higher onto his shoulder and striding off down the corridor following the footsteps going away from them. The other three scuttled after him, and Hermione grabbed his sleeve.

"Why are you going this way?" she hissed nervously, and Harry shrugged.

"Why not? If we can't get out this way we can turn around and follow the other set of footprints back. You three certainly weren't making any decisions, so I did."

"But what if someone catches us?" Neville whimpered, looking around like he expected Filch to jump out at them any moment. Harry shrugged again.

"We can plead ignorance. We were being chased and ran up the first staircase we found, and ended up here. And we don't know the way back out because the staircase moved just after I got off it." The smaller boy smiled reassuringly at the nervous Neville. "I don't think they'll expel us for an accident, if we tell the truth."

The four first years followed the footprints in the dust down to the end of the corridor, where they found the footprints disappearing through a doorway. Another set of footprints had joined the ones they were following, coming from around a corner some 15 feet or so back, but they only seemed to go one way and that was into the room ahead. Harry turned the handle of the door cautiously, but it didn't open, and the boy frowned. He stooped slightly on the step to look through the keyhole curiously, Ron Neville and Hermione watching him, then he gulped and stepped back carefully.

"What? What's in there?" Ron asked excitedly, seeing the stunned look on Harry's face as the boy backed up from the door cautiously.

"Would you believe a bloody enormous three-headed dog?" the green eyed lad said faintly, and Ron shoved Neville aside to have a look himself.

"Bloody hell!" the red head exclaimed loudly, and Harry shushed him hastily. Ron stood up and backed down the steps from the door like Harry had done, leaving room for Neville and Hermione to have a peek through, and the four first years stared at each other as Hermione turned away from the door.

"Blimey." Neville said softly, and Hermione snorted.

"I don't think that is the way out, somehow." She remarked. "Maybe we could try following those footsteps that come from around that corner?"

"Fine by me." Harry said. "I'm just glad that door's locked!" He glanced back over his shoulder nervously as the quartet headed back up the corridor to where the new set of footprints joined the ones they had been following. "That thing could eat each of us in one mouthful." He shivered at the thought, grimacing, and Neville looked down at him thoughtfully. Harry shrugged at his friend's querying look.

"I don't like dogs much, okay? Aunt Marge's bulldog chased me up a tree once when I was little and they left me there all night. Kind of puts you off dogs in general, really."

"Yeah, I can see that it would." Neville agreed amiably. "At least you're not as bad as Ron with spiders." Harry snorted as Ron growled a protest.

"No. I'm not terrified of dogs, I just don't like them much. I'd have liked a cat if I'd been allowed a pet, at least before I got Hedwig. Now I kind of like owls."

"Yeah, your Hedwig's lovely. I've never seen an owl so friendly and affectionate to it's owner before." Neville said. Harry shrugged.

"We spent a lot of time together between Hagrid taking me to Diagon Alley and school starting. Almost a month, in fact, with both of us shut in the same room. Well, cupboard." He smiled in reminiscence. "I used to sneak her out when everyone else had gone to bed, so long as they hadn't locked my cupboard door."

"Look, I think this is the way out of here." Hermione, who was in the lead, whispered. She reached out to pull the handle of the wooden door in front of them, but it didn't move.

"Oh no, we're trapped!" Ron moaned, and the girl snorted in disgust. She bent to peer through the keyhole, and straightened with a grunt of satisfaction before pointing her wand at the lock and whispering "Alohomora!" The door unlocked with a heavy clunk, and Hermione pulled it open cautiously. She poked her head out into the corridor on the other side, and slipped out with a beckoning hand to the three boys as she found the corridor deserted. The boys followed her out, and they all spent five minutes brushing dust and old cobwebs off themselves before looking around curiously.

"Where are we, anyone know?" Harry asked. Hermione frowned thoughtfully, looking at one of the nearby paintings.

"I think we're near the Headmaster's office. I recognise that painting and I think that's his Guardian Gargoyle down there. So Gryffindor Tower is off this way." The small girl turned on her heel and led the way along the brightly lit corridor away from the distant winged gargoyle, and the three boys trailed behind.

They headed back to Gryffindor Tower, discussing the three-headed dog and possible reasons for its presence in the school in low voices as they walked.


	15. Chapter 15

_Goodness me, February already? Where is this year going? Hope everyone is surviving this hideously cold weather here in the UK all right, and hope you all enjoy the next chapter!_

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A week before the Christmas break was due to start, Minerva McGonagall was seated at the Head Table in the Great Hall at breakfast, watching the first students filter through the open double doors and towards their respective House tables. Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she saw Severus Snape sweep in behind a group of Ravenclaw fourth years and head for his seat beside her at the Head Table.

"Good morning, Severus." She said in mild surprise. "You are up early today." Severus sat down beside her with his usual feline grace, and smiled at her faintly through his curtain of long, slightly greasy black hair.

"I know." He admitted with a shudder. "Far too early for my liking, I have to admit, but I needed to catch you without students around and you tend to have disappeared by the time I usually surface for breakfast."

"And what did you need to catch me for that you could not discuss in front of students, Severus dear?" Minerva said cheerfully, batting her eyelashes at him in mock flirtation. Snape grinned at her attempt, then his black eyes flickered towards the doorway in invitation and McGonagall glanced in that direction. Harry, Neville and Hermione were just coming in the doorway, without Ron as the youngest Weasley was no doubt still asleep. Minerva watched the Gryffindor trio take seats about halfway up the Gryffindor table, Harry sitting with his back to the wall of the Great Hall so his face happened to be visible from the Head Table, and looked back at Snape with raised eyebrows.

"I am planning to visit Mr Potter's home in the first week of the Christmas break." Snape said softly as his plate filled with his favourite breakfast foods. "Some one with Ward Sight needs to go and see if the blood wards Dumbledore is so adamant exist are actually still standing."

"Hmmm." McGonagall glanced again at Harry's smiling little face, and met Snape's black eyes forthrightly. "Albus is still in favour of sending Harry back to the Dursleys at the end of the school year, you know." She said softly. "I haven't told Harry that fact yet. I won't tell him until it is definite that he has to return, and I am still hoping we can change Albus' mind. I do **not** want Harry going back there if it can possibly be avoided." She frowned at the thought, and Snape nodded in agreement.

"That is why I am going to go see if the blood wards still stand. If they do not or are so corroded that they provide no protection at all, Dumbledore will not be able to use their existence as a reason to send Harry back. I have dealt with enough abused children in Slytherin over my years as Head of House to be able to recognise the signs, and Harry's got most of them. For instance the fact he prefers to sit facing the room, given half a chance, so no one can sneak up behind him."

"Yes, Severus, almost like you do." Minerva teased, and the hook-nosed younger man shrugged.

"Anyway, I plan to apparate to Little Whinging during the first week of Christmas break, from Hogsmeade. Harry has pretty much begged me not to contact his relatives until he knows for certain he doesn't have to return – apparently his uncle is capable of holding a grudge for 7 months with no problems at all."

"Huh. Doesn't surprise me in the slightest, from what Lily said of her sister and her husband." Minerva said sourly. "Would you like me to come with you or would you prefer to go alone?"

"I would prefer you to come, if you can manage it. However I'm not telling Albus that I am going – I don't really want him trying to interfere so I'm just going to say I'm going to London to restock my potions ingredients." McGonagall nodded.

"Good idea. I won't tell him I'm going either. We can meet up in Hogsmeade and apparate together or just meet up outside 4 Privet Drive."

"I think the latter would probably be the best option. Give him less cause for concern."

"Right. Second day of the holidays suit you? Give us a chance to appreciate the quiet of a mostly-empty castle for a day first?" Minerva smiled at the Potions Professor, who nodded with a returning smile.

"Too true. Also it would realistically take me until the second day of the holidays to check my potions supplies, after all." Minerva and Severus nodded in agreement with each other, then their talk turned to other things.

Over at the Gryffindor tables Harry watched his Transfiguration and Potions Professors talking over their breakfast suspiciously. McGonagall's glance in his direction hadn't escaped his notice, and he had the sneaking suspicion the two Professors had been discussing him.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts, and he blinked at her vaguely. "You okay, Harry?" the girl asked in mild concern, and the boy shrugged.

"Just wondering about Christmas holidays." He said, returning his attention to his breakfast.

"Are you sure you don't mind staying here?" Neville asked worriedly. "I'm sure Gran wouldn't mind if you came home with me, you know."

"No, Neville, you're okay. I don't fancy just landing on your Gran's doorstep expecting her to be okay with it – what if she goes mental? Then you'll be in trouble as well as me. I'll be fine. Ron, Fred and George are staying, aren't they, so I'll have other people to talk to." Harry smiled at his two friends, and Hermione snorted.

"Assuming Ron ever gets out of bed over the entire holidays, that is." She said cheerfully, and Harry and Neville laughed.

"I'm sure he'll get up for Christmas Dinner." Harry said with a smile, and Hermione shrugged. "Even if he doesn't, I'll be fine. I spent 10 years pretty much on my own, so I'll be okay. Better than going back to the Dursleys, that's for sure!"

"Have you heard anything about whether you will or not yet?" Neville asked softly, and Harry shook his head.

"No. I'm not thinking about it – I've got 7 months yet haven't I so I'm not worrying about it yet." He bit his lip, and shrugged. "Hell, if all else fails I'll run away. Got my own key to my own vault at Gringotts now, even if it is just my Trust Fund vault, and I reckon I can live off that for summer with no problem at all if I have to." He smiled wryly at his two friends' stunned faces, and shrugged. "Don't worry about it, guys. Lets see what happens by July, first. No point borrowing trouble, is there?" The black haired boy turned back to his breakfast, and Hermione and Neville followed his example and changed the subject.

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The day of the Christmas break, Harry got up early enough to traipse down to the Great Hall for breakfast with Hermione and Neville, both of whom were going home on the Hogwarts Express later that morning. Ron, needless to say, was just stirring when Harry left their dorm, as were Seamus and Dean who were also going home that day.

Harry and Neville met Hermione in the Common Room and they all headed down to the Great Hall together, laughing and chattering as usual. Fred and George suddenly popped up on either side of the trio of first years, George next to Neville and Fred next to Harry.

"So, little firsties, looking forward to going home?" Fred said genially, resting his elbow on Harry's head comfortably until the small eleven year old ducked out from under it.

"I'm not, you idiot. I'm staying here, as you know perfectly well." He said sourly, and Fred ruffled his hair mockingly.

"Was I talking to you?" he said, and Harry made a rude noise.

"Oooh, just you wait, Potter." George said in mock threat from beside Neville.

"Yeah, Harry, all on your own," Fred said ominously,

"With us!" George cackled, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ooooo, I'm scared." He said mockingly, and the twins laughed.

"Never mind," George said,

"You can help us prank,"

"Percy and Ron,"

"During the holidays."

"Yes, Harry, you should see if you can find out who Nicholas Flamel is, too. While you're here all holidays." Hermione said as the five entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor tables. Fred and George looked down at the three first years quizzically, and Harry smiled.

"Something Hagrid said about whatever that three-headed dog is guarding up on the third floor." The green eyed boy said and the twins nodded in acknowledgement. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had told the twins about the three headed dog on the third floor a week or so after the incident with the charm in the corridor, but they hadn't told them what Hagrid had let slip during a visit to his hut last weekend.

"You know, I'm sure I've read that name somewhere." Hermione said thoughtfully. "I just can't remember where!" She frowned at her faulty memory, and the boys smiled at her.

"Don't try so hard, then you'll probably remember." Neville said cheerfully, and Harry nodded in agreement.

"I'll see what I can find during the holidays, anyway." He said reassuringly to Hermione as the group sat down at the Gryffindor tables, and the girl smiled at him. The black haired boy grinned back mischievously. "I might even finish all my homework, at the same time! Seeing as I'll be in the library anyway." Hermione laughed as Neville clutched his heart in horror, and Fred and George snorted.

"Don't take things too far, Harry." George said cheerfully.

"Yeah, you don't want to overdo it." Fred completed, grinning, and Harry giggled.

Harry came out to the carriages with Hermione and Neville a couple of hours later. The boy stopped with his two friends by the door of an empty carriage, and blinked as he saw the strange creature that seemed to be a cross between a horse and a snake that was pulling the carriage.

"What's that?" he asked curiously, expecting Hermione to know what the animal is. The girl followed his gaze, and frowned in confusion.

"What's what?" she asked, and Harry looked at her in surprise.

"That animal pulling the carriage." He said obviously, and Hermione and Neville blinked at him in mild concern.

"There's nothing pulling the carriage, Harry." Neville said worriedly, and Harry frowned at him.

"Yes there is, it's right there." The boy took a few steps forward and reached out a hand to the creature cautiously, and the animal's snake-like head came down to sniff his fingers mildly before it allowed him to pat it's neck. It had scales instead of horsehair, but felt quite solid under Harry's hand. Hermione and Neville stared at him as he patted an invisible, to them, animal, then Hagrid spoke from behind them and they both jumped.

"They're Thestrals, Harry." The huge gamekeeper boomed sadly. "I was hopin' yeh wouldn't be able to see 'em." Harry looked up at Hagrid quizzically, and the huge man smiled sadly into his bushy beard.

"Yeh can only see 'em if yeh've seen somebody die." Hagrid explained. "That's why Hermione and Neville can't see 'em." Harry's mouth formed a soundless 'o', he backed away from the thestral carefully before looking up at Hagrid.

"Are they dangerous, then?" Hermione asked curiously. Hagrid smiled and shook his head.

"Nah. Not really. They'll take a chunk out of yeh if yeh annoy 'em, but so'll most things." The huge gamekeeper reached out to pat the thestral's neck, and the creature shook it's head vigorously.

"Yeh lot better get goin', else yeh'll miss the train." Hagrid said, and Hermione nodded. She grabbed Harry in a hug, surprising a yelp out of the startled boy, and frowned at him in concern.

"You'll be okay, won't you?" she asked fiercely as she let him go, and Harry nodded fervently.

"I'll be fine, 'Mione, I promise. You have a good holiday, and I'll see you after New Year." The girl nodded and climbed into the coach, and Neville stuck his hand out to Harry. The black haired boy looked at it and grinned, giving Neville a hug.

"Don't be daft, Longbottom. You have a good time at home and I'll see you next term." He said, letting Neville go and watching the freckled boy climb into the carriage after Hermione.

"See you after Christmas, Harry!" Hermione said, leaning out of the window to wave as the carriage set off with a jerk. Harry stood waving until their carriage was out of sight, then turned to go back into the Castle with a sigh. Hagrid was waiting for him, and fell in beside the small eleven year old as Harry headed back into the school.

"You not going 'ome for Christmas, 'Arry?" the gamekeeper asked, and Harry shook his head.

"No, thank goodness. I'm staying here, like the Weasleys are."

"I'll see yeh around, then. Got to go put some more decorations up in the Great Hall." Hagrid explained, branching off that way. "Unless yeh want to come help?" Harry nodded happily, peeling off his gloves and shoving them into his coat pockets. They were so thin as to be useless in the cold, but he kept wearing them anyway on the theory that anything was better than nothing.

Severus Snape was in the Great Hall when the small first year trotted in on Hagrid's heels. The Potions Professor had been dragooned by Filius Flitwick into helping decorate, and was feeling somewhat hard done by. Christmas was not one of his favourite times of the year, as he didn't really have any family worth speaking of to celebrate it with, and he really did not feel in the mood for adding yet more decorations to the Great Hall. However, he also wasn't feeling churlish enough to refuse point blank to help and storm out of the room back to his nice **quiet** dungeon, either. He heaved a sigh as he saw Harry trot into the room behind Hagrid, but his lips twitched slightly despite himself as he saw the small boy's face light up at the sight of the twelve fantastically decorated Christmas trees. The small Gryffindor stopped to stare, and Snape watched him out of the corner of his eye as he went back to shooting snow out of the end of his wand to settle gently on one of the trees.

Flitwick was levitating baubles onto another tree, and paused to smile a welcome at Harry.

"Would you like to help, Harry?" the tiny Charms Professor asked in his squeaky voice, and the small boy nodded eagerly. "If you have your wand, then you can levitate that pile of tinsel onto that tree next to Professor Snape." Flitwick instructed, and Harry nodded. He trotted over to Snape, who had a huge pile of red tinsel at his feet, and dragged his wand out of his pocket. Snape finished settling snow on the tree and turned in time to see Harry's tatty old glove fall out of his pocket onto the floor as the boy pulled his wand out, and Harry picked it up to shove it into his pocket again before starting to use Wingardium Leviosa to get the tinsel onto the tree. Snape made a mental note of what to get Harry for Christmas before turning back to the decorating.

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Severus left Hogwarts fairly early on the morning of the second day of the Christmas Holidays, as he had previously arranged with Minerva McGonagall. He walked to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, as it was impossible to apparate inside them, and paused to settle his wand comfortably in it's sleeve holster before pulling his cloak closer about him against the bitter winter wind and apparating to Surrey.

The tall, hook-nosed professor arrived at his destination with the usual 'pop' that accompanied apparition, and stepped into a footpath linking Privet Drive with Magnolia Crescent to wait for McGonagall. The weather was not as bitterly cold in Surrey as it was in the wilds of Scotland, for which the tall man was mildly grateful, but he was still glad he had his thick winter cloak on and his scarf and warm gloves. He frowned to himself, remembering the glimpse he had caught of Potter's threadbare, too-small winter gloves, and made a mental note to buy the boy a new pair for Christmas when he got chance. He would have to visit Diagon Alley after his meeting here with McGonagall anyway to provide for his cover story, so he was planning on getting the few Christmas presents he bothered to buy anyone at the same time.

Then a further 'pop' heralded the arrival of Minerva McGonagall, and Severus looked out of the footpath cautiously to signal to the woman. The tall slender witch hurried to join him, her tartan-lined black cloak pulled tightly around her against the cold weather, and Severus nodded a greeting.

"Lurking in an alleyway for a reason, Severus?" Minerva said teasingly, and the Potions professor rolled his eyes.

"It's out of the wind, Minerva. And we are rather noticeable as we are neither of us dressed in muggle clothing."

"Disillusionment charms?" McGonagall suggested, and Snape nodded. He let the woman cast one on him and then did the same to her, and watched with interest as she faded into the background as her clothes and skin changed colour like a chameleon.

"This spell is so odd to watch." McGonagall remarked softly. "Can you see the wards from here?" Snape shook his head wordlessly.

"Which one is Harry's Uncle's house?" he asked, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as McGonagall pointed at one of the multitude of identical houses directly opposite the footpath. The only thing that made this boxy house different from its neighbours was the fact that it's garden was a bit messier with more weeds, as if the gardener had been away for a few months and the replacement wasn't very enthusiastic about weeding.

"I don't see any wards at all." Severus said with a frown, and he stepped out of the footpath into the cold wind with a shiver. He strode across the road to the pavement in front of number 4, and frowned thoughtfully at the property as McGonagall followed him. His black eyes met hers as she stopped next to him, and the stern witch blinked at the fury in them before Severus shuttered it away.

"There are **no** wards on this property, Minerva. There never have been." The hook-nosed man hissed angrily, and saw his colleague's eyes narrow.

"No trace at all? Not even of wards that have collapsed?" she queried, and Snape shook his head curtly.

"Nothing. No trace of any wards of any type ever having been placed on this property at any time. Even wards that had collapsed due to misuse or neglect would leave some trace, a boundary line if nothing else, but there is absolutely **nothing** here."

"Oh, Albus, how could you?" Minerva whispered mournfully, and looked at Snape. "We need to get somewhere and discuss what this means and what we are going to do about it." She said softly. "The Leaky Cauldron?" Snape shrugged.

"As good a location as any. I will see you there." He turned on the spot and vanished with a 'crack', and Minerva heaved a sigh before following a few moments later.

Fifteen minutes later the witch and wizard, disillusion charms removed, were sitting in a secluded corner of the Leaky Cauldron and nursing drinks of their choice. Minerva was cradling a glass of fine single malt whisky as she stared thoughtfully into space, and Snape was frowning into the depths of his pint of bitter.

"Dumbledore must know there are no wards, Minerva." Severus said softly, unwilling to admit it but unable to deny the facts. "He has been saying for the past 10 years that the blood wards are the reason Harry must live with his mother's only surviving relatives, and now we find there are no blood wards. He **must** know."

"I know, Severus, I know." Minerva said sadly. "But why would he do that? After all the wizarding families that offered to take Harry in, why leave him with those muggles for no good reason?"

"I do not know." Severus said, although secretly he had a good suspicion as to the reason. However it was just a suspicion, and he didn't want to voice it to anyone without some proof first. McGonagall glanced at him sharply, hearing the equivocation in his voice, and the younger man struggled to meet her gimlet glare.

"What do you suspect, Severus?" she demanded, and Snape sighed.

"Suspicion is all I have, Minerva. Purely supposition and my own paranoia, I suspect." He looked up hopefully in the hope that she would let him off voicing his thoughts, and sighed as he realised he had no choice.

"What if Dumbledore **wanted** Harry to be, oh, not so much physically abused as just a tad neglected? Neglected enough by his family to make him desperate for any sign of affection or love at all?" He spoke into his beer as he tried to put his thoughts into words, but heard Minerva sigh as she picked up on his train of thought.

"So that he would trust completely the first person that showed him any affection, and eventually come to believe whatever that person told him." the witch said softly, biting her lip, and Snape nodded.

"And eventually follow that person's orders with never a question or any form of rebellion?"

"It would be a great coup for any wizard to have the Boy-Who-Lived following his every order, in public or in private." Minerva admitted, and the two professors looked at each other with weary, saddened dismay.

"What in Merlin's name are we going to do?" Severus sighed, pushing his pint aside gloomily. Minerva shrugged.

"Short of confronting Albus, there is not a lot we **can** do." She began, and Snape frowned at her.

"You cannot seriously be considering letting Harry return to that …. Place!" he spat in disgust, after a pause to try and find a suitable description for the Dursleys'. Minerva shook her head in vehement disagreement, blue eyes flashing.

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. Of course I am not. But we cannot exactly turn around to the Headmaster, the most powerful wizard alive, and say we know he's been lying for 10 years and **letting** Harry be abused, can we? He may not have known how bad the abuse was – he doesn't seem to have picked up on it so far anyway." Snape snorted at that.

"No, he never has been very good at reading those sort of signs." He said sourly, remembering his own unhappy childhood. "Come to that, **we** don't know how bad the abuse was. It's not as if Harry will talk about it, after all. Not without one of us cornering him and dragging it out of him."

"Yes well, leaving the interrogation of students aside, all we can do is tell Albus his wards are no longer standing so Harry will not be safe if he returns there, and see what happens." Snape sighed in defeat at his colleague's words, and nodded. He rose to his feet in a graceful movement, and looked down at McGonagall gloomily.

"I am going to go get my potions supplies, to provide a cover story. We will have to work out a way to let Dumbledore know his wards aren't standing without him knowing we went to visit the Dursleys, I suppose?"

McGonagall shook her head.

"I'm Harry's Head of House, I'm perfectly within my rights to go visit his family in the Christmas break if necessary. I'll work it out, somehow."

"Well, let me know if you need any assistance. I will see you back at the school." Snape nodded a farewell and strode off towards the back yard and the entrance to Diagon Alley, and Minerva sighed as she stared into the depths of her whisky.

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_So, there you go. I've tried to keep Snape fairly in character, and hopefully I've managed it. And I do think Harry would have seen the Thestrals right from the beginning, as his Mum was killed right in front of him even though he may not consciously remember it. I've thought that right from Book 5 when the critters first showed up :)_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter or his world. I'm just playing with the characters :)_

_Hope everyone likes the Christmas chapter - my little brother was as hyper as Ron is on Christmas Day when we were all kids (back in ancient history)! In fact my parents used to put the baby gate across the top of the stairs so we couldn't get downstairs and raid the tree until they got up - it worked til I was about 10 by which point I was tall enough to climb over the gate :)_

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On Christmas morning Harry was woken by Ron bounding onto the end of his bed. The black haired boy yanked his covers over his head with a growl, hearing Ron whooping something but not awake enough to understand what his friend was saying. Then Ron's hands pulled the covers down, despite Harry's deathgrip on them, and the red headed boy grinned down at Harry's glowering, half asleep face and repeated what he had said.

"Happy Christmas Harry! Look, you've got a stocking!" Harry's green eyes flew open in surprise as he woke up at that, he sat up in bed and blinked in shock at the Christmas stocking draped over the end of his four poster bed.

"Where'd that come from?" he gasped, and Ron sniggered.

"Santa Claus, of course." Harry relaxed and shot his friend a sardonic glare, and the taller boy laughed.

"Don't know. House-elves will have left it. Maybe the teachers do it for all the kids that stay over the Christmas holidays. I've even got one, and we don't normally get one at home on account of we're too poor." Harry crawled down his bed to grab his, pulling it back up the bed with him as he piled his pillows up and got back under the covers where it was warm and cosy.

"Somebody must do." The small eleven year old said. "I've never had a stocking before. I wasn't even expecting to get any presents." Ron gaped at him in surprise.

"No presents? On Christmas?" the red head sputtered, and Harry shrugged.

"I never have before, so why start now? Not like the Dursleys are going to buy me anything, unless it's rat poison or something." He shrugged again and tipped his stocking out onto his lap, a warm glow in his chest at his first Christmas with presents that he could ever remember.

"What you got?" Ron asked, having already looted his stocking before waking Harry up. Harry smiled.

"Tangerines, sweets, and a new wand." He held it up for Ron's inspection, then dropped it in surprise as it suddenly turned into a bunch of flowers. Ron howled with laughter at the stunned look on Harry's face as the small boy reached out cautiously and prodded the flowers with a fingertip, and Harry glared at him.

"It must be a trick wand." Ron managed between giggles, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I never would have guessed." He said sarcastically, then Fred and George appeared in the doorway of the dormitory and leant on the jamb, smirking at the two eleven year olds.

"Morning, ickle firsties." George said cheerfully. He was fully dressed in his normal home clothes, but with the addition of a thick hand-knitted jumper over the top with a bright yellow G in the middle of the chest. Ron looked at it in horror, and raised dismayed eyes to George's face as Fred proudly showed off his blue jumper with a yellow F in the middle.

"Oh no," Ron moaned despairingly, "Not another Weasley jumper, please!"

"Oh yes, Ronniekins," George said with relish as Harry grinned,

"Read it and weep, bro." Fred said.

"Mum's been at it again."

"Don't know why she keeps putting initials on ours." Fred mused, looking down at his chest.

"In case you forget your names?" Harry suggested cheerfully, sliding out of bed and reaching for his home clothes and wash things. George grinned.

"Yeah, that'll be it."

"But we're not stupid." Fred added,

"Yeah, we know we're called,"

"Gred and Forge." Harry laughed, and squeezed past them out of the door as Ron moaned and hung his head.

"We'll meet you in the Common Room for present opening, Harry." Fred said as the small first year disappeared into the bathrooms, and Harry waved a hand in response.

The three youngest Weasley brothers were waiting patiently (or at least patiently in the case of Fred and George) by the fire in the Common Room when Harry trotted down the stairs 15 minutes later.

"Hey, Harry." Ron greeted him, vibrating with eagerness to get at the pile of presents under the tree labelled as his. "Look, you've got presents!"

"Have I?" Harry said in surprise, and the twins exchanged a querying glance.

"Yup, Potter, looks like it." Fred said amiably, slouched in an armchair near the stoked-up fire.

"Looks like Mum's knitted you a Weasley special." George confirmed, stretching out one long leg to poke a bulky parcel half under the tree.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron, just open the damn things!" Fred grumbled, the fidgeting his younger brother was doing driving him mad. Ron let out a chortle of anticipation and dove at his presents, and Harry perched on the edge of a chair and watched him with a worried frown.

"Don't worry about Ron, Harry." George said long-sufferingly.

"He's always like this on Christmas day. In fact he's worse at home." Fred said. "Open your presents, why don't ya?" Harry glanced at the twins cautiously, and reached for a present on seeing their encouraging smiles.

The thirteen year old twins exchanged a slightly worried glance at seeing the total difference between Harry's cautious behaviour and their younger brother, who was by now surrounded by a drift of wrapping paper and in the process of shredding the paper from his last present eagerly.

Harry was going about it the exact opposite. He took the first parcel from the pile and unwrapped it slowly and carefully, as if he was savouring every moment. He even folded the paper up carefully and put it to one side, reading the tag on the present before even touching the article contained in the wrapping paper.

"Told you, another Weasley special." Fred said in satisfaction as Harry held up a huge knitted jumper in bottle green wool. A golden Gryffindor Lion was knitted onto the front, and the boy pulled off his usual jumper to replace it with his new present.

"Suits you." George said, wearing his proudly. "Glad to see you haven't got your initial on the front of yours, though." Ron had pulled his on as well at a glare from Fred, and sure enough a big R was knitted on the front of his jumper.

"Your mum must have been knitting all year!" Harry said, looking down at his cosy jumper happily.

"She usually is." Fred admitted cheerfully.

"Permanent click-click of knitting needles in our house." George confirmed, and Ron nodded.

"What else you got, Harry?" the youngest red head asked curiously. He had by now ripped open all of his presents and gloated over them briefly, and now curiosity was eating him alive about Harry's presents. The smaller boy shrugged and opened the next present on the pile, revealing a pair of thick winter gloves and a matching hat.

"Who are they off?" Fred asked as Harry tried the gloves on and smiled when they fitted perfectly. The black haired boy turned and found the label on the wrapping, and his jaw dropped.

"Who?" Ron asked, and Harry handed him the label with a shaking hand. The red head read it and his eyes widened.

"Bloody hell!"

"Well, come on, tell us!" George said impatiently, seeing Ron's stunned look. Fred leant down and grabbed the label out of Ron's slack grasp, and the twins read it together.

"Blimey, Harry, what's Snape doing buying you a Christmas present?!" Fred said, gobsmacked. Harry shook his head wordlessly, but pulled the gloves off to study them thoughtfully.

"I think he saw the state of my old gloves the day Hermione and Neville went home." He said with a shrug. Fred's eyebrows rose questioningly, and Harry scrambled up to go get his old gloves.

He trotted back down the stairs 5 minutes later and held his old gloves out to the twins, and George took them gingerly.

"Blimey, the state of these!" he said, realising how thin and worn they were as he took hold of them.

"These can't possibly have kept your hands warm." Fred said, and Harry snorted.

"They were Dudley's outgrown ones from four years ago, so what do you think?" he said dryly, reaching for his next present. "Do you really expect my aunt and uncle to give me anything that not only fits but is useful? Get real." He opened the small present on his lap to reveal a hand carved wooden flute, and blew down it to find that it made a noise similar to an owl's hoot.

"Hagrid." He said to Ron as the other eleven year old opened his mouth, and reached for his next gift which looked like a book.

"That must be from Hermione." Ron said with a grin, and Harry pulled the paper off to reveal a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.

"Yup. Good ol' 'Mione, might've known she'd buy me a book!"

"What did you get her?" Ron asked curiously as the twins talked to each other softly in the background. Harry grinned.

"A book, of course. 'Unusual Charms and Potions'. McGonagall let me send an order into Flourish and Botts. Did you like your present, by the way?"

"Oh yeah Harry it's brilliant! Thanks!" Ron hugged his Chudley Cannons mascot affectionately, and Harry smiled. He picked up the next to last present under the tree, and opened it at Ron's grin to find a pile of Chocolate Frogs.

"Thanks Ron!" Harry said, and the red head shrugged.

"You can never have too much chocolate." He said solemnly, and Harry grinned as he reached for his last present. This was just a rather tatty envelope, which upon opening contained a 50p coin. The three Weasleys stared at it in surprise as Harry fished the coin out of the envelope and blinked at it in shock.

"Who sent you that?" George asked curiously, and the first year blinked at him.

"My aunt and uncle. This is the first time they have **ever** given me anything for Christmas." He looked at the 50p, more than a bit stunned, then shrugged.

"Something must have made them feel guilty." Fred said shrewdly, and Harry snorted as he pocketed the 50p and stood up to stamp the feeling back into his feet. Then Percy emerged down the stairs from his dormitory, his Weasley jumper over one arm, and Fred and George jumped up.

"Morning, Perce." Fred said as he and his twin headed for the older boy.

"See you've got a Weasley special as well." George said, taking it off Percy and holding it up to admire it.

"You've got to wear it though." Fred said, and the twins abruptly dragged the jumper over Percy's head, knocking his glasses askew and trapping his arms to his sides.

"Come on, ickle firsties, time for breakfast." George said as he and Fred pushed Percy out of the portrait hole ahead of them, ignoring his splutters. Harry laughed and followed with Ron as the twins guided Percy, his arms still trapped by his sweater, down the corridors towards the Great Hall.

Harry went back up to his dormitory that evening to put his outer clothes away after an afternoon out flying with the Weasley brothers. He pushed the door open and crossed the circular room to his bed, then stopped in surprise as he saw the parcel lying in the middle of his bed. He dropped his gloves onto his trunk and sat down on the bed, picking the parcel up to read the tag on it curiously.

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._

"Well that's weird." Harry said softly to himself, his eyebrows rising, then he looked around as Ron stumped into the room to drop his own gloves onto the lid of his trunk.

"Hey, Harry. What's that?" the red head asked curiously. The black haired boy shrugged.

"Dunno. It was just here when I came up. And look at the tag." He pulled the label off and handed it to Ron, whose eyebrows shot up when he read it.

"That's peculiar." The taller eleven year old said, and Harry nodded.

"Yup." He shrugged and opened the parcel curiously, and a silvery-grey piece of material slithered out and spilled across his lap.

"It's a cloak." He said, dropping the paper to one side and picking it up. It shimmered in the dim afternoon light coming in the windows in a strange, almost lifelike manner.

"Well, try it on then." Ron encouraged, perched on the side of his bed and watching curiously. Harry shrugged and slid off his bed to the floor, holding the cloak up before swirling it around himself. Then Ron gasped, and Harry looked at him inquisitively.

"Harry, you're invisible!" the red head exclaimed, and Harry looked down at himself hastily. He yelped as he saw his body had disappeared so he was just a head floating in the air, and a wicked grin spread across his face as he looked at Ron.

"Wow. Just imagine how much trouble we can get into with this, Ron." The taller boy grinned back as the implications of an invisibility cloak sank in, then his brain reverted back to the overriding question of who had given it to Harry in the first place.

"Cool. But who gave you this?" he picked the tag up and read it again, but neither he nor Harry, who pulled his cloak off and came over to read it again, could recognise the handwriting and the gift had not been signed.

"I dunno. Reckon Fred and George would recognise the handwriting?" Harry asked Ron, perching on the edge of Ron's bed next to the taller boy. Ron shrugged.

"They might, but do you really want them knowing you've got an invisibility cloak? They'd nick it off you in five seconds flat and you'd never see it again, unless they got caught using it in which case they'd blame you!" Ron sounded like he was speaking from experience, and Harry squinted at him with a small smile.

"So what useful item of yours did they nick?" he asked curiously, and Ron flushed red and shrugged.

"Nothing important." He mumbled, handing the tag back to Harry and jumping to his feet. "Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" he said brightly in an obvious attempt to change the subject, and Harry grinned.

"Yeah, why not. Let me put this back in my trunk, and I'll meet you in the Common Room." Ron grabbed his pack of Exploding Snap cards and trotted down the stairs, and Harry folded his new present up carefully before stowing it at the bottom of his trunk.

"Wonder if there'll be anything on Nicholas Flamel in the Restricted Section of the library?" Harry mused an hour later, while Ron beat him soundly at wizard chess. The small black haired first year was staring at the fire absently while waiting for Ron to make his next move, curled up in the chair at the nearest table to the fireplace. Fred, stretched out full length on his back on the nearest settee with a book propped on his chest as he read, snorted as he heard Harry's soft question.

"There might well be." The tall twin said in response. "I wouldn't recommend trying to get at the books without a note from a Professor, though."

"Why not?" Harry asked curiously, looking at the tall thirteen year old. Fred tipped his head back over the arm of the settee to look at the small eleven year old upside down, and smirked at him briefly before returning his attention to his book.

"Because if you try to open a book in the Restricted Section without a Professor's permission, the damned things scream. Like a banshee." He said, and Harry blinked.

"Okay, so much for that idea."

"Ask Snape for a note. Say you're researching a really complicated potion for extra credits." Ron suggested absently as he hunched over the chess board. Fred snorted.

"Yeah, like that'll wash with the evil dungeon dwelling bat." He said sarcastically, and Ron shrugged.

"It might, if Harry tries it. Snape seems to like him, doesn't he?"

"As much as Snape likes anyone, which isn't much." Harry added in hasty qualifier. "And I keep getting this odd feeling when he looks at me he expects to see somebody else instead of me."

"Maybe it's your Dad. Didn't McGonagall say you looked like him?" Ron queried. Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe. In that case I don't think Snape and my dad got on, judging by the odd looks I keep getting. It's like he's expecting me to do something horrible, and it keeps surprising him when I don't."

"You could always try and oblige him." Fred suggested cheerfully, and Harry snorted.

"No thanks. I've had it from the other end, haven't I? There's no way I'd treat anyone else like Dudley and his gang treated me. I know what it's like on the receiving end, so no thank you." Harry looked down at the chess board as Ron finally instructed his piece to move, and leant forward over the board with a sigh as his pieces started yelling advice at him.


	17. Chapter 17

_Another week, another chapter! Doing good, aren't I?_

_Should still be okay to post another chapter next Sunday - into Hospital tomorrow to get a Central Line fitted in my chest to make it easier to have chemotherapy (the veins in the backs of my hands being **completely** useless now) but I'm about one and a half chapters ahead so even if everything goes pear-shaped (gods forbid!) I should be out by next weekend. Hell, I **will** be out by next weekend if I have to walk the 18 miles home in my pyjamas :)_

_Anyway, enough about my crappy health - hope everyone likes the Christmas chapter and the way Harry's starting to bond with a few of his fellow students and teachers. About time the poor little bugger got some affection, methinks!_

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After Christmas it hardly seemed like any time had passed at all until it was the day before the rest of the school was due to return. Harry had had the best Christmas holiday of his life, having been pretty much adopted by the four Weasley boys still at school as another brother. He had spent most of the daylight hours on his Nimbus 2000 swooping around the Quidditch pitch with Fred, George, Ron and sometimes Percy as well, either practicing Quidditch or just mucking about.

The meals in the Great Hall had been interesting as well during the holidays. As there were so few students and Professors remaining at the school, the separate house tables had been discarded for the break and everyone sat at a round table in the middle of the Hall, Professors and students all mingled together. Harry seemed to end up next to his Head of House Professor McGonagall at almost every meal, as if the Professor sat down next to him deliberately, and he was really starting to like the stern witch as he got to know her. It was almost like she was trying to make him feel like he was part of her family, which gave him a warm glow inside that matched the one he felt when the Weasleys included him in their familial banter and affectionate teasing. Even Percy was being nice and friendly, or as friendly as Percy would ever get with an eleven year old.

So all in all, Harry had had a very good Christmas holiday indeed, and although he was looking forward to seeing Hermione and Neville again he was also going to miss the peace and quiet in Gryffindor Tower and getting to sit with his friends at the Professors' table at mealtimes.

The only fly in the ointment of the wonderful holidays was Dumbledore's overly-friendly attitude towards Harry. The boy felt it was as if the Headmaster was trying to turn Harry into relying only on his advice for anything, albeit in a very subtle way. He kept trying to catch Harry alone in the corridors for 'a little chat', which mostly seemed to consist of Dumbledore contradicting pretty much every piece of advice Harry got from any other Professor or adult, even Hagrid. All Dumbledore's efforts at being charming, friendly and accessible were doing was making the smallest Gryffindor more and more wary and suspicious of the Headmaster, but Dumbledore didn't seem to have noticed as yet. The fact that the Headmaster kept asking Harry random questions about his home life and his relatives wasn't helping matters, and the boy was sure he had caught the odd glitter in McGonagall's and Snape's eyes when the Headmaster asked these sort of questions.

And now it was the last day of the holidays, and Harry and the Weasley brothers were on their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. They were all flushed with cold, having just returned from an afternoon on their broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch. Even Percy had consented to join them, turning out to be a surprisingly good flyer and a passable Quidditch player. Ron of course had to borrow a school broom, but he was quite good even on the old school brooms, at least when he didn't think anyone was watching him.

McGonagall, seated at the table next to Severus with an empty seat on her other side, watched her five Gryffindors boil into the Hall after an afternoon out in the snow and cold with an affectionate smile. She was glad to see early on in the holidays that the Weasley brothers had taken Harry under their wing, and Snape arched his eyebrows at her fond smile.

"What are you smirking about, Minerva?" he asked sourly, eyeing the rowdy Gryffindors coming towards the table with a fair amount of trepidation. Fred and George had been on their best behaviour at every mealtime, slightly intimidated by sharing their table with four Professors and the Headmaster, but the Potions Professor tended to expect the worst out of the Weasley twins out of sheer self-defence.

"Absolutely nothing, Severus." Minerva said mildly, watching out of the corner of her eye as the tall red heads and small brunette sat down at the five remaining seats. Harry, as per usual due to the manoeuvring of the Weasley brothers, ended up sitting between her and the twins, and she smiled down at him in greeting.

"Good evening, Harry." She said, and the small boy smiled back.

"Evening, Professor McGonagall." He said cheerfully, his face glowing with exercise and cold. His green eyes, so like his mother's as Minerva remembered them, were shining with happiness as he sat blowing on his cold fingers whilst waiting for the plates in the middle of the table to fill with food.

"Have you had a good afternoon?" Minerva asked as the plates filled and Ron reached for the nearest bowl of mashed potato. Harry nodded happily as he waited for the bowl of mash to pass around the four Weasleys to him, then Fred, seated on the other side of the small eleven year old, dropped two slices of turkey onto the boy's plate.

"Hey!" Harry protested, and Fred smirked down at him as he took the bowl of mash from George.

"You have to eat properly, Harry." The thirteen year old said in an uncanny impression of Hermione, and Minerva's lips twitched as Snape snorted into his pumpkin juice and Harry giggled. Fred shot Snape a slightly worried look, but smirked down at his small friend as he passed him the bowl of mashed potatoes. "You think I want Hermione bugging me because we haven't been making you eat properly?" he said with an exaggerated shudder, and Harry snorted mockingly as he dumped a pile of mash onto his plate before passing the bowl to McGonagall and reaching for the carrots and parsnips.

"Bit late now, Fred." He said cheerfully. "You lot have practically been force-feeding me chocolate all holidays, the last day is leaving it a bit late to start making me eat healthily." Fred shrugged as George sniggered.

"He's got us there, Gred." The other thirteen year old said, and Fred sighed as he loaded his own plate up with vegetables.

"Yeah, we'll just have to take our lumps I guess." He said gloomily, and Harry laughed.

"Don't worry, I'll keep Hermione off you. As much as I can, anyway." He added as a qualifier, grinning up at the twins, and the tall red heads rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Gee thanks Harry." George said sarcastically, and Fred nodded. Harry grinned.

"I can leave her to it if you like?"

"Um, no, you're okay. She channels Mum enough as it is, thanks." Fred said hastily, and at that Minerva chuckled outright as Snape rolled his eyes and smirked into his pumpkin juice.

"Severus and I happen to know Molly Weasley." Minerva explained to Harry as the small brunette looked up at her quizzically, and Harry smiled.

"I don't, but apparently Hermione can really channel her." He shrugged as he started on his dinner. "I've heard a lot about her, though, and she sounds really nice."

"Oh, she is. She'll mother you half to death if she gets hold of you." Minerva said cheerfully. "She's had a lot of practice, after all, with seven children."

"I see she knitted you a Weasley special, Potter." Snape said in his deep silky voice from the other side of McGonagall, and Harry grinned.

"Yessir. Good, isn't it?" He looked down at his jumper proudly, and Snape smirked.

"Gryffindorish, at any rate." He agreed, seeing the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front of the jumper, and the Weasleys grinned as Harry nodded proudly. Snape rolled his eyes, and Minerva smirked at him.

"Give it up, Severus, you're never going to win." She said, and the tall Potions Professor sighed.

"So how's yeh broom, 'Arry?" Hagrid asked from the other side of Ron. "I saw yeh all out on the pitch this afternoon."

"Oh, it's brilliant Hagrid." Harry said happily, enthusiasm shining in his eyes. "Being able to fly is just fantastic!"

"And he's a natural as well." Percy admitted to Hagrid across Ron's head. "Even Charlie didn't fly as well as Harry does at his age." Harry blushed a bright red at the praise from the most straight-laced of the Weasley brothers, and ducked his head over his plate as Hagrid beamed at him and the other three Weasleys nodded vigorously in agreement.

"You take after your father in that respect, Harry." Minerva said fondly, and the small boy's shoulders moved in a shrug. "He was always good on a broom, James was." Minerva added softly, and Snape shot her a sour look but refrained from criticising his old enemy in front of Harry with an effort. He wouldn't ordinarily have bothered restraining himself, but he knew how insecure Harry was underneath his confident exterior and didn't want to upset the small boy by criticising the father he could not remember. He made a mental note to give the boy a more realistic portrait of his father when Harry was a bit older and able to accept it more. At this age and after 10 years of not even being told the names of his parents, Harry was more interested in hearing anything about them at all, as the muggle relatives that had raised him had refused to tell him anything at all. Having been orphaned at the age of just 15 months, Harry didn't really have any clear memories of his own of his parents, although Snape suspected there were probably a few buried ones at the back of the boy's head. Hagrid had told the Professors about the fact that Harry could see the Thestrals, which the Professors all agreed meant that he had more than likely seen his mother murdered by Voldemort even if he didn't remember it.

"So what time is the train due to arrive tomorrow?" Flitwick asked towards the end of the meal in his squeaky voice. Dumbledore smiled at the diminutive Charms Professor.

"About mid-afternoon, allowing for leaves on the line and so forth." The Headmaster said in his deep voice. "So one more day of peace and quiet, both for us and for you few students still here," he smiled benevolently around at the five Gryffindors, two Ravenclaws, three Hufflepuffs and the solitary Slytherin, "before the rest of the school arrive back and lessons start again the day after tomorrow."

"So now is the time to do any homework you haven't bothered to finish yet." Snape said ominously, and smirked as Fred, George and Ron exchanged worried looks. The trio of red heads finished what was left on their plates and rose from their places hastily, aiming to get back to Gryffindor Tower and finish off their last pieces of undone homework.

"You coming, Harry?" Ron asked, stopping next to Harry's chair. The smaller eleven year old shrugged.

"I'll come keep you company. I've done all my homework." He said, scrambling up.

"G'night, Professors. Hagrid." The small boy said politely, and trotted off beside Ron after the twins. Percy rolled his eyes and went back to his dessert after watching his brothers leave the Great Hall, and Snape arched his eyebrows at the Gryffindor fifth year.

"Has Harry actually done his homework?" he queried out of mild curiosity, and Percy shrugged as he finished his dessert and rose to his feet.

"Probably, Professor. If he says he has, he more than likely has. Harry doesn't tell seem to tell lies, not even little white ones. And although he isn't as much of a bookworm as Hermione Granger, some of her habits seem to have rubbed off on him as far as homework and book-reading are concerned."

"Goodness." Minerva said mildly, "Will wonders never cease, a Potter who does his homework early rather than the night before it is due!" The adults around the table lingered as the rest of the students left for their dormitories, and Snape snorted softly in response to Minerva's remark.

"More to the point, Minerva, a Potter who isn't an out and out bully like his father was. And polite, to boot." Minerva smiled and shrugged.

"I find Harry much more like his mother in personality, rather than his father. He seems to take after James in looks but only looks. Although I am fairly sure that the way he has been raised has had an effect on his personality and his politeness."

"Unless we can get him to talk about it, we are unlikely to ever know." Snape said gloomily, and Minerva shrugged again before looking up the table at Albus Dumbledore.

"While we are here, Albus," she said sternly, "What is going to happen with Harry's living arrangements next summer?"

"Well, I would have thought he would be returning to his home." Albus said blankly, and Minerva frowned at him.

"Yes, I had a horrible feeling you would say that. That is why I visited 4 Privet Drive early on these holidays, to check the blood wards. As you know, I have Ward Sight when I care to invoke it. Albus, we cannot send him back there. The wards are completely down – there is no trace of them still standing at all anywhere around Privet Drive!" Albus blinked at her in well-feigned shock, and frowned thoughtfully as he put on his 'favourite grandad' act as Filius, Hagrid and Severus exclaimed in dismay. Severus gave McGonagall a faint wink on the side away from the Headmaster as the woman glared past him, and could have sworn he saw a faint smile flicker across the witch's lips.

"Well, where else could we send him? He cannot stay here – the Castle needs the two months in summer to recharge its energies which it will not get if there are any students left in the building." Filius said squeakily as Dumbledore sat deep in thought at the head of the table. McGonagall shrugged.

"I am sure we can find a wizarding family willing to take Harry in for the summer – Molly and Arthur Weasley perhaps. The point is if we decide now he cannot return to Surrey, it gives us six months to sort out alternative living arrangements for him."

"Well he certainly cannot go back to his relatives without the blood wards being there." Snape said softly. "They are muggles, after all, so would have no way of protecting him against any threat if one should arise." Dumbledore nodded reluctantly, and rose from his seat.

"I am afraid you are right. I will give it some thought as to where we can send our young Mr Potter that he can be safe. The Weasleys are a good choice, Minerva, but obviously I will need to check with them that they will be able to take him." He nodded farewell to the three remaining professors and Hagrid and swept down the Great Hall and out of the doors, frowning thoughtfully but fuming inside at this disruption to his plans. Hagrid shrugged and left five minutes later, Filius Flitwick departing at the same time as the gamekeeper. Snape watched the odd pair out of the doors before turning to McGonagall with a smile of admiration.

"Very well done, Minerva." He said, transfiguring both remaining goblets of pumpkin juice into wine before raising his to her in a toast. The witch grinned at him, clinking her goblet on his before taking a slow sip and savouring it with a sigh.

"I know. I decided it would go over much better if I cornered Albus about the wards in front of other Professors. Then he can't weasel out of doing anything by saying he forgot or I didn't tell him."

"He'll probably try and weasel out of doing anything anyway." Severus said sourly. "He certainly did enough times when I was a child."

"Ah, but Harry has me on his side. Unfortunately I hadn't been here long enough to be able to help you when you needed it as a child, Severus. I was too junior a teacher, whereas now I am the Deputy Headmistress so I have a lot more power." She patted his hand apologetically as she spoke, and the black-haired man smiled at her affectionately.

"I know, Minerva. I was not blaming you – you did what you could for me which I greatly appreciate." He shrugged idly. "Albus just seems to have a blind spot when it comes to noticing abused children, unlike the rest of us."

"Hmmm. Either that or he's quite happy to leave Harry with his awful relatives if he thinks it will make the child more inclined to worship him for being rescued from the situation." Snape smiled malevolently at that, and arched his eyebrows at Minerva.

"I don't think that plan is working anyway. Have you not noticed Mr Potter's attitude towards the Headmaster?" Minerva frowned and shook her head, and Snape's saturnine face broke out into a grin.

"He certainly does not give the impression of trusting Albus, shall we say. Wary distrust I think sums up Harry's attitude towards the Headmaster at the present time, which personally I am quite pleased about!" Minerva smiled agreement and nodded as Severus continued, thinking aloud. "I feel that your way of handling Mr Potter seems to be paying off the most, Minerva. Albus's overly-friendly Grandfather act just seems to be making Harry more and more uneasy around him. And all the charm Albus is exerting on him I don't think is helping matters!"

"How is it you can know so much, when Harry isn't even in your House?" Minerva asked teasingly, and Severus smiled.

"I **observe**, Minerva. That's the advantage of coming across as an unfriendly git, no one talks to me so it gives me more opportunity to observe the behaviour of people around me."

"Oh, so there's a reason you do your best to terrify the life out of every student, is there?" McGonagall chuckled, finishing off her wine, and Severus smirked.

"That, and the fact that it is actually quite amusing to see their faces drop when I swoop round a corner on them. And it means they behave themselves in my classes, well most of them anyway." He added gloomily, thinking of the Weasley twins, and McGonagall smiled.

"Whatever works for you, Severus." she said in amusement, and the tall Potions Professor smiled back.

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_Hope you all like it!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Another week, another Chapter. Thanks to everyone who has not only reviewed, but wished me good luck with the chemo! All good karma gratefully appreciated, believe you me. On upside, I now have the central line in so chemo is a lot easier and quicker now they don't have to root around for a vein :) Now just gotta wait for the stuff to work..._

_Anyway, I promise not to die before I finish this story, honest :)_

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Harry was curled up in a chair in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room the following afternoon, re-reading his Christmas present from Hermione for the third time. He looked up in surprise as a shrill shout of "Harry!" came from the portrait hole, and uncurled from the armchair just in time to be hit by a bushy-haired whirlwind. Hermione grabbed him in a tight hug, eliciting a startled yelp, as Neville scrambled through the portrait hole after her.

"Are you okay?" Hermione demanded, releasing Harry and stepping back to look at him in concern as Neville gave the black-haired boy a buffet on the shoulder in welcome.

"I'm fine, 'Mione. Did you have a nice Christmas?" Harry asked with a smile, glad to see his two friends again. Hermione smiled and nodded.

"It was great. Thanks for my present, as well! I can't wait to try out some of the potions in it – they look really interesting!" Harry grinned and rolled his eyes at Neville, who shrugged helplessly.

"Did you have a nice holiday?" the freckled boy asked, collapsing onto the couch behind him. Harry subsided back into his armchair, moving his book so he didn't sit on it, and nodded.

"Yeah, it was actually really good. Spent **loads** of time out on the Quidditch pitch, of course." He blinked at Hermione apologetically as he continued, "I didn't find anything about Nicholas Flamel, 'Mione. I was going to try the Restricted Section, but Fred said the books in there scream if you open them without permission so I didn't risk it." Hermione grinned at him smugly, perching on the edge of the settee next to Neville.

"That's okay, Harry. I remembered where I'd seen his name, anyway!" She pulled out a chocolate frog card, of all things, and handed it to Harry with a smug smile. Harry took it with raised eyebrows, blinking at the picture of Dumbledore on the front before turning it over and reading the blurb on the back. His jaw dropped when the information sank in, he gaped at Hermione and Neville in amazement as they sniggered at his dumb-founded look.

"So that three headed dog is guarding the Philosopher's Stone!" Hermione said in a hushed voice, trying to avoid any of the students passing through the Common Room overhearing. Harry and Neville nodded in agreement, Harry handed the chocolate frog card back to Hermione.

"You know, I reckon that was what Hagrid took from that vault at Gringotts when he took me there." The black haired boy said thoughtfully, curling his legs under him in the armchair and nibbling on a fingernail absently. He blinked at Hermione's and Neville's blank looks, and shrugged.

"Did I not tell you?"

"No, Harry." Neville said patiently, and the smaller boy shrugged again.

"When Hagrid picked me up from the Dursleys and took me to Diagon Alley, we went to Gringotts first to get some money. And after we'd been to my vault, Hagrid said he had to collect something for Dumbledore. 'The you-know-what from vault you-know-which', he said. It was a tiny little parcel that he picked up, and that was the only thing in there. I bet that was the Philosopher's Stone."

"But why bring it here?" Hermione mused, curling up on the settee. "Gringotts is supposed to be the safest place to store things in the wizarding world."

"After Hogwarts, Hagrid said." Harry corrected.

"Wasn't there something in the Daily Prophet in October about a break-in at Gringotts?" Neville said. The other two shrugged. "Maybe someone broke in to Gringotts to try to steal the stone, only Dumbledore had moved it to Hogwarts first." Neville mused, his brown eyes lighting up with excitement. Harry shrugged, frowning.

"By why would anyone want to steal it? What's so brilliant about the Philosopher's Stone, anyway?" Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, and the black haired boy scowled at her.

"The Philosopher's Stone can extend your life, Harry. It can make you live forever, or if you're half-dead it can keep you alive indefinitely. It turns lead into gold, as well."

"Oh, wow." Harry said sourly. "Can't see the appeal of living forever, myself. Although the lead into gold thing'd be cool if you were a bit skint." He shrugged, and Hermione and Neville nodded in agreement.

"Well, somebody must be after it if there was a break-in at Gringotts to try and steal it." Neville said logically. "Hey, maybe that's why Snape was limping after Halloween, he tried to get past the dog and steal the stone!" Harry shook his head.

"Snape wouldn't." he said positively, and Hermione frowned at him.

"Why not? He's an evil enough bat to want to live forever." She said, and Harry shook his head again.

"He might be an evil bat, but he looks too miserable and gloomy to want to live forever. Why live forever when you don't like life in the first place?" Neville laughed.

"Yeah, good point, Harry." He agreed, and the brunette grinned.

"Hey, come up to the dorm a minute. You'll never guess what I got for Christmas!" he said, springing to his feet. Hermione and Neville looked at each other with raised eyebrows but followed obediently on Harry's heels up to the first year boys' dormitory, which was deserted at the present moment.

Harry flung open his trunk and burrowed into the bottom, under the assorted detritus of the last term, as Hermione perched on the side of his bed and Neville leant on the bedpost. The pair watched curiously as their small friend pulled out a shimmering silvery-grey cloak, and Harry grinned at their blank faces.

"This ... is an invisibility cloak!" he said dramatically, and smirked as his friends' jaws dropped.

"Wow, Harry, they're really rare!" Hermione said reverently, touching the shimmering material cautiously as Harry sat on the bed next to her with the cloak over his lap.

"Yeah, that's what Ron said." Harry stroked the material gently as Neville perched next to him.

"Who gave it you?" the freckled lad asked, and Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. There was no name on the tag, just that it was my Dad's and whoever it was thought it was time it was returned to me."

"Dumbledore." Hermione said positively, and the two boys blinked at her.

"How do you know that?"

"Well who else would your Dad have left this with? He'd have been much more likely to leave it with the Headmaster than any other Professor, wouldn't he?" the girl said logically, and the boys shrugged.

"Assuming Dumbledore was Headmaster when my Dad was here." Harry said, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He's been Headmaster for a lot longer than that, Harry. Over 30 years, I'll bet. Your parents only left Hogwarts 13 years ago, it says so in the books about you." Harry grimaced, burying his fingers in the cloak's warm folds, and shrugged.

"Wouldn't know. Don't read 'em." He muttered, and Hermione patted his shoulder gently.

"I know you don't, but I do so you don't have to." She teased, and Harry's lips twitched.

"Gee, thanks, 'Mione. And here's me thinking it was just because you read everything you can get your hands on, when all this time it was to save me emotional trauma." He retorted, and Neville sniggered. Hermione thumped Harry in the ribs, and the small boy fell backwards onto the bed clutching at his chest in mock agony. He squeaked in protest as his two friends jumped on top of him, and the serious moment passed in a three-way tickling match.

After the day all the students returned Hogwarts soon settled back into the normal term time routine. The first years were getting more homework assigned to them now they had been in school for a few months and generally had a grasp of the basics of magic, and combined with Wood's regular Quidditch practices Harry's spare time was rapidly decreasing. He spent most of his remaining free time in the evenings and at weekends ensconced in either the library or the Gryffindor Common Room with Hermione and Neville, desperately trying to keep up with his homework assignments and required reading. Ron frequently joined them if they were in the Common Room, but the redhead seemed more interested in mucking about with Dean and Seamus and rabbiting on about Quidditch teams and House rivalries than spending time in the library. In fact the Weasleys that Harry and his two friends saw most often in the Library were Fred and George, much to their surprise.

Harry was in the library alone at the beginning of February, hunched over a table after dinner trying to finish off his Charms essay for his first lesson the following day, when the twins dropped into chairs on the other side of the table from him with loud sighs. The small first year looked up through his fringe at the tall redheads warily, and Fred (or possibly George) smirked at him.

"Don't look so worried, Harry." He said cheerfully,

"Yeah, we don't bite." George finished, leaning forwards over the table to look at what Harry was doing.

"Homework, is it?" he asked rhetorically, reading the textbook in front of Harry upside down. The first year sighed and nodded, putting down his quill to stretch cramped fingers, and the twins smirked.

"Get used to it, kid." Fred said gloomily,

"It only gets worse with every year." George continued, nodding. Harry grimaced and looked up at the third years curiously.

"How come you two are spending so much time in here lately, anyway?" he asked, and the twins shrugged.

"Research." Fred said mysteriously, and George nodded as Harry snorted.

"Research for what? I doubt it's school work, somehow." The duo shuddered in unison, and glowered at him in mock offence.

"Schoolwork?" George spluttered indignantly.

"Merlin forbid, Potter." Fred said.

"No, we're researching for our future careers." George said proudly, and Harry sniggered.

"Yeah, right. You two, careers? As what, clowns?" He ducked Fred's swipe across the table at his head, and grinned at the tall twins unrepentantly. The two redheads exchanged a glance that Harry couldn't read, then George shrugged.

"You have to promise to keep this a secret, Harry." He said in as near to a solemn manner as the twins ever got, and Harry blinked.

"From everyone, including and especially Ron and Percy." Fred continued.

"Because they'll tell Mum,"

"And we really don't need her finding out just yet thank you,"

"Because we would like to reach our majorities,"

"And actually survive long enough to put our idea into practice"

"Which we won't if Mum knows what we're planning." Harry blinked as his brain processed the twin talk, and looked up to see the two redheads watching him expectantly.

"Okay. I can keep secrets." He said, and the twins grinned at him.

"Yeah, we know." George said.

"We have noticed." Fred admitted, and Harry shrugged.

"We're going to open a joke shop." George said confidentially, and Fred nodded proudly.

"As soon as we finish school and manage to get enough money, that is." The other twin added as a qualifier, and Harry's jaw dropped.

"Wow!" he said after George reached over the table and shut his jaw for him. "That's totally cool." He blinked up at the twins in admiration, and put his hand on his heart.

"I promise, I won't tell a soul. Well, maybe Hedwig, but that'll be all."

"Just don't tell any of our brothers." George said.

"Bill knows, we asked him for a bit of advice last time he came home," Fred said,

"But we certainly don't need Ron and Percy knowing."

"Percy'd go ballistic and Ron can't keep a secret to save his life." Fred confirmed, and Harry nodded in agreement.

"Got that right. Will your Mum not approve of the idea then?" he asked, and the twins shuddered theatrically.

"She'd kill us." Fred said gloomily.

"In our prime." George confirmed. "Reckon Dad'd be all right with it,"

"But Mum rules our house,"

"So we'd still get slaughtered."

"Yeah, she still doesn't know what Dad's done to the car,"

"And that was like three years ago." Harry blinked at them.

"I didn't think wizards had cars." He said in surprise, and the twins grinned.

"Most wizards don't." Fred admitted.

"But Dad works for the Ministry,"

"In the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department,"

"And is totally obsessed with muggle stuff."

"So he got a car,"

"A Ford Anglia I think?"

"And has put all sorts of enchantments on it."

"It flies and everything." Harry grinned.

"Wow. I'd love to see it." He said wistfully, and the twins leant over the table conspiratorially.

"Well, keep it under your hat,"

"But there's rumours going round,"

"That you might be coming to ours in the Summer Hols."

"But don't tell Ron yet." George added as a qualifier.

"He doesn't know,"

"On account of his motormouth problem." Harry blinked up at the tall redheads in surprise, his green eyes hopeful, then shrugged and looked down as he bit his lip.

"It would be nice if that happened." He said wistfully, and the twins frowned at him. "But I'll not think about it just yet thanks. In case it doesn't." The small bespectacled first year continued. He looked up at the third years and managed a wan smile. "It'll just be too depressing by half if I get my hopes up then it all falls through."

"You won't end up back at your Uncle's, though." George said bluntly, and Harry's mouth quirked in a twisted, wry smile.

"Dead right there. If everything falls through and Dumbledore tries to send me back, I'm going to run away." He confided, and the twins gaped at him before their faces split into identical evil smiles.

"Good idea Potter." George said cheerfully.

"Yeah, let us know if that happens,"

"And we'll see what we can do to help,"

"So long as you let us know before the end of term." Harry blinked at them gratefully, and nodded.

"But, obviously," Fred added as a qualifier.

"We'll hope it doesn't,"

"And you get to come home with us."

"But if you're going to run away,"

"Best if you sort access to your vault out with McGonagall first,"

"In a roundabout way if necessary." Harry nodded in agreement, his green eyes thoughtful, then George picked up his wand and said "Tempus". The small first year blinked as the time appeared in glowing red numerals in the air in front of the redheaded third year, and the twins looked down at him.

"Best get moving, Harry." George said amiably.

"Curfew time, nearly." Fred finished. Harry nodded and packed up his books, scrolls, ink and quill, shoving them all into his schoolbag before trotting after his fellow Quidditch teammates out of the library.

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_Hope you like this chapter._


	19. Apology

_**This is not, unfortunately, a new chapter!**_

_**It's more of an apology for not posting before and an explanation of why not, just in case any of my lovely readers are dying of suspense :)**_

_**Unfortunately I got dragged into hospital on the 29**__**th**__** February, and the swine kept me in until last Thursday. I had to have my abdomen drained of 11 litres of ascites (fluid to you lot) and a full course of antibiotics for my cough. Then they found a stonking great blood clot sitting right in my pulmonary artery, which is just fantastic! And on top of that the current chemo ain't working either, so quite frankly it's not been a very good fortnight :**_

_**Even worse, although they have released me, they only let me out on the condition I went to stay with my Mum in North Wales, 200 miles from my own PC! So not only can I not access what I've already written, I can't post it either!!**_

_**I'm hoping to get home for Easter Weekend, blood clot in the old Pulmonary Artery permitting, so I will try and post Chapter 19 at least that weekend!**_

_**Sorry again for the horrible delay, but do not despair I WILL be home and posting again at least by the end of March – simply because I'm off out for my 36**__**th**__** and damned if I'm gonna miss that!**_

_**And as I've said before, I promise not to expire before finishing the story :)**_

_**Happy Easter to everyone anyways!**_


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